


Kawaakari

by n0cturnal_spirit



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Descriptive Style, I'm making this up as I go, M/M, MadaTobi Week 2019, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Uchiha Madara Cares, World-Building (sort of)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-07-31 04:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0cturnal_spirit/pseuds/n0cturnal_spirit
Summary: The Uchiha and the Senju are at a cease-fire, working towards a lasting peace between the two clans.In order to strengthen that peace, Tobirama is to be married off to Madara, the future head of the Uchiha.The way he has seen the Uchiha during his whole life is now constantly challanged as he learns more and more by living with them, and maybe Hashirama was right all along by saying that Madara was really not that bad.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> Coming back to the Naruto fandom after 10 years sure has changed my view on things quite a bit.
> 
> That said, this is my first go at writing these characters and they most likely are a bit (if not a lot) off. But the potential! I'd be happy to hear what you think of how I've written them and all sorts of tips are welcome! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Happy MadaTobi Week!

Kawaakari –_ the way light – particularly moonlight – reflects off a river, expressing the shimmers, ripples and gleams; refers to the brightening of the river, and the way the light plays with the surface_

**i.**

Tobirama slid the oiled cloth along the length of his katana again and again with practiced movements. He’d done it so many times that he only needed to rely on his muscle memory to complete the task for him while he let his mind wander to whatever had caught his attention lately.

This time it had been the way his father had stormed back into the house after the peace talks with the Uchiha. It was surprising for him to be so furious, considering it was the other clan that had extended the olive branch for a cease fire and later the peace offer, and it would be strange if they had decided to go back on their word. Because something of this sort had to have happened to put his father in such a mood, no? The last few talks had gone by without incident, albeit not entirely smoothly, which was to be expected given the long history of warring that the two clans shared.

From what Tobirama had gathered, the meetings mostly consisted of discussing terms and conditions each of the clans had for the other. There was also the occasional demand, of course, usually having to do with provisions and freeing of the commerce paths to other clans and civilian villages. So perhaps the Uchiha had demanded something his father could not agree with? But to be so furious over rations? And both sides had refused to agree on such demands before, opting to replace it by something else with equal value in turn. Have they given his father an ultimatum this time? Refuse and the fragile peace shall be broken?

Yet, it made no sense. Why offer the peace and then threaten to break it? It had to be something else. Perhaps Hashirama would know. He and Madara always went along to these meetings, both as training for when they would assume the role of Clan Heads and as assurance that their fathers would not act out in fury and destroy the peace. So, surely, his brother would know what had made their father so angry. He should go ask-

A knock on his door interrupted his train of thought and Tobirama blinked a few times to bring his attention back to the present, then granted permission to enter to whomever was demanding it. The door opened, letting out the ever-present creaking that Tobirama had purposefully wanted it to have so it would alert him whenever someone tried to enter his room unannounced and he was not currently dispelling chakra in order to sense, and one of his father’s servants entered and lowered his head slightly to the side in the mock bow Tobirama had long ago accustomed himself to receiving,

“Tobirama-sama, your father had requested your presence in his chamber immediately.”

Choosing to ignore the obviously spat honorific after his name, Tobirama nodded in acknowledgement, finished his last stroke with the cloth along his katana, put everything neatly down and stood to make his way to the other side of the house, where his father’s private room was.

As he reached the door, Tobirama let himself hope for a second that his father would have calmed down and would not want him only to have something to let his frustration out on. He dispelled a small amount of chakra and sensed that Hashirama was also in the room with their father and that alone was enough to reassure him slightly – his brother would never let anything happen to him. Tobirama raised his hand and knocked lightly on the wood, and once granted permission, pushed the door open and entered the room, closing it hastily behind himself and walking quickly to sit down next to where his brother was, facing their father.

Butsuma looked him over with narrowed eyes and pressed lips as if to determine his worth, and Tobirama fought the need to squirm away from the intensity of his father’s eyes. It was certainly not an unfamiliar sensation, he’d received this look for all the seventeen years of his life, however he’d yet to master the ability to take it unshaken.

His father’s eyes went back up to his own and Butsuma let out a tired sigh, a tell of weakness that Tobirama had never seen his father show before. Puzzled, he turned a questioning look to Hashirama, only to find his brother looking at him with an unnaturally sad expression. It left Tobirama only more confused because whatever had happened on that meeting, had left his family in a state that he hadn’t seen in a very long time, perhaps since they’d lost Itama, and Tobirama failed to figure out what could’ve brought the same feelings out this time around, from a peace meeting with the Uchiha of all things. He was about to voice his thoughts when his father spoke,

“Tobirama, you must know that I do not agree with this demand in the slightest and tried to offer them a retribution, a replacement, something else that I thought they’d want in the place of this, but they refused to accept anything else. As it is a demand by their elders, there is little if even anything Tajima could do to make things different. And our elders have left me no choice but to agree as well.” Butsuma pressed his lips in distaste at having to bow his head to the elders and Tobirama took the time to think over his father’s words, to seek some sense in them, but the only thing they cleared up was the nature of this demand and the fact that it was indeed an ultimatum as he had hypothesized earlier.

As his father gave no sign of speaking again, Tobirama asked,

“What precisely is this demand, father?”

Butsuma closed his eyes and let out another sigh, and Tobirama tried to go over all the worst things the Uchiha could have demanded in order to get his father to act like this. But what his father said hadn’t even crossed his mind,

“You are to be married to Uchiha Madara as insurance that the peace will last and as an attempt to strengthen it. As he is to be the Clan Head, only someone from the Head family of our clan could be offered to him, and since Hashirama is my heir, it could not be him. We had no other choice but for it to be you.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened in shock and all he could do was stare at his father, failing to comprehend what was being said. Objectively, it all made sense: by sending him over to the Uchiha with the excuse of a marriage, he would be a glorified prisoner in their midst, but his presence there would assure the keeping of the peace from the Senju’s part; it could also serve as an example to other Senju and Uchiha to intermarry, strengthening the alliance farther. Furthermore, he was the second son of the Clan Head, the one with the highest position after the heir apparent, and given that he was still available, it would be insulting to offer the Uchiha someone else in his stead.

However, the fact that it would be him instead of someone else disrupted his logical thinking and rendered him completely speechless, simply staring at his father with wide eyes. Marrying an Uchiha would mean that he’d have to permanently move to their territory, leaving his home, his family, his clan, everything he’d known his whole life, behind. He’d be utterly alone and surrounded by the Uchiha, who certainly still held animosity towards him with how many of them he’d slaughtered on the battlefield over the years. They’d probably even restrain his chakra, making him unable to protect himself from whatever it is they were going to do to him as revenge for their fallen. And he’d be married off to Madara, who was nothing if not terrifying during battle. Were it Izuna, perhaps he would’ve been fine, the younger Uchiha was his equal after all, he could at least hope to hold his own for a while. But with Madara, as strong as Hashirama, but twice as fierce, Tobirama had no chance to save himself; he’d be helpless against whatever Madara had decided to do with him. And if the Uchiha decided to use his Sharingan on him, he would not be able to escape it; Madara was the most proficient user of their clan’s bloodline and if he so desired, he’d surely-

An arm was wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him to the left to lean against something solid but warm, and it tore him away from the terror he had started to spiral down into. He blinked a few times, turning to his left and focusing on his brother’s face, tilted down to look at him with that sad expression that looked so out of place on his features. Hashirama was trying to reassure him, show him more than tell that it would all be well. But he would surely think so, wouldn’t he? After all, him and Madara had been friends as children and ever since the ceasefire, they had started to build their friendship anew. Then again, if Hashirama trusted Madara so much, maybe Tobirama could try to do it as well. Hashirama was known to only see the best in people, often remaining completely blind to all their flaws, but that only proved that there was at least something good in Madara that Hashirama had seen, something that proved he wasn’t entirely ruthless. Perhaps Hashirama was right to think that all would be well. Tobirama trusted his brother to never betray him, so if Hashirama was willing to go along with this, then he would do so, too.

Tobirama turned back to face their father, trying to take control of his face as much as possible to put on the neutral mask he so often wore, and swallowed once to clear his throat,

“I will do it, father.”

Butsuma’s face softened just barely, yet it was enough for the change to be seen, and he nodded,

“As I’d expected of you. I’m proud of the man you’ve become, Tobirama.”

For the second time since he’d stepped into his father’s room, Tobirama was taken aback and completely lost as to how to react. An entire life of following his father’s every word without expecting anything in turn had him perplexed as to what was expected of him in return. In the end, he settled for a bow,

“Thank you, father.”

Butsuma grunted, which was his usual wordless response, yet this time it didn’t hold its ever-present annoyance. Tobirama lifted his head to see their father wave them off with his hand,

“You’re both dismissed.”

They bowed their heads quickly and made their way hurryingly out of the room, making sure to close the door behind themselves softly, having been lectured time and again about slamming doors as children to have it trained out of them by now.

As soon as they were out of the room, Hashirama grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the house to the gardens, where they’d usually go to hide or, in recent times, speak amongst themselves without fearing that someone else would overhear.

Once they reached the old oak tree, Hashirama let go and turned to face him, his expression no less sad than it had been before,

“Tobi, I’m so sorry you’re forced to do this. I really am. Father and I both tried to bargain, but they wouldn’t let it go, and the elders, all of them, said it had to be done. But it won’t be so bad, I’m sure Madara will not let anything happen to you and will protect you. He’d do anything for his family, after all. I know you will be okay. But I’ll miss you so much!”

With that, Hashirama threw his arms around his neck and pulled him close for one of his suffocating hugs, muffling his sobs in Tobirama’s shoulder. Tobirama would normally protest to his brother’s childishness, they were both grown men after all, but he knew that he’d miss his brother just as much once he was sent to the Uchiha, so he lifted his arms and circled them around Hashirama’s waist, pulling him slightly closer than he already was. He stayed silent, letting his brother calm down as much as he could, and when the sobbing subsided, he gently pulled back to look at Hashirama,

“I might not trust Madara, but I do trust you, anija, and if you firmly believe that Madara would not harm me, then I believe it as well.” Hashirama smiled shakily at him and nodded, and Tobirama continued, “Do you know when I am to leave? Father didn’t say anything, but it would be best to know how much time I have left to prepare.” How much time left he would have at home, with his family, before all he had known was to be taken away from him.

“A week from now. You’d be married then and right after you’d be going to the Uchiha compound.” Hashirama tightened his hold on him, but did not pull him in again, instead staring at him as if trying to imprint Tobirama’s face onto his memory. Tobirama strongly hoped that he would be allowed to see Hashirama afterwards; given that him and Madara were friends, perhaps his hopes were not in vain.

“Then it would be best if I started preparations soon.”

“I’ll help you, just tell me what you need.” The determination was back in Hashirama’s eyes, and Tobirama was grateful that his brother was not as offputtingly sad as he had been seconds ago.

“Tomorrow. I…” Tobirama was still too overwhelmed by everything and simply had to take some time to sort through it all in his head, to try to get used to the situation at hand.

“I understand. Let’s go back inside, then, shall we?” Hashirama squeezed him tightly for a second, then let go and they made their way back to the interior of the house. Tobirama was immensely grateful that his brother read him well enough to know when he needed the time to think. He wondered if Madara would ever allow him such a luxury once they were living together.


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Tobirama likes being warm. I mean, come on, why else would he have that white fluffy collar thing on all the time? 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and kudos and for generally being interested in this!  
Hope you like the chapter, would love to hear your thoughts!

The one week after that had gone by faster than any other period in Tobirama’s life. Between rushing to wrap up as many of his experiments as he could (who knew whether he’d be able to continue his research once in the Uchiha compound), deciding what he wanted to take with him and what he didn’t need, spending time with his mother, cousin and brother, Tobirama didn’t even notice the time fly by and soon only a day remained until the wedding.

The scrolls he wanted to take with him simply refused to fit in the wooden crates and he had been at the task for half an hour, already highly irritated that there apparently wasn’t enough space, when Hashirama let himself casually in his room without knocking, as usual,

“Tobi! Are you finishing here? We’ll be having guests!” his brother was radiant as ever, grin in place, as he let himself down on Tobirama’s bed, completely oblivious to the younger’s foul mood.

“I can’t get them to fit.” He said with annoyance through gritted teeth, pushing the scrolls into the box, but they refused to budge.

“Let me help!” Hashirama skipped over to him, laid a hand on the wooden crate and a few seconds later, the pieces composing it had elongated in height, giving him more space to stuff a few more scrolls in. He smiled gratefully at his older brother, filling up the crate and closing it with its lid and a seal to make sure no one would touch his things without permission, then turned back to Hashirama,

“I think this was the last one. Although, I would need to do a quick check just to make sure I have everything.”

“Of course! But even if you forget something, I’ll just send it over to you, or even use it as an excuse to come see you personally, so don’t worry too much.” Hashirama clasped his shoulder and where Tobirama would usually have complained, now he simply let it be, enjoying the weight of his brother’s hand, grounding him in the moment. Then, he turned back to Hashirama,

“You mentioned guests?”

“Ah, yes. Izuna is coming tonight with two other escorts to bring the gifts for the engagement ceremony taking place. There are still a couple of hours left but I thought it’d be better for you to know earlier.”

“Is it truly necessary to go through with all the traditions? The agreement has already been given by both parties, such nonsense as engagement ceremonies is a complete waste of time.” Tobirama crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes. He had no problem with tradition, in fact he found partaking in most of them somewhat soothing, knowing that those were the customs of his ancestors and will remain the customs of the generations to come, something that connected all of them through time, showing them their belonging to the same roots. What bothered him was that the practice of this exact tradition involving him could only mean that the wedding itself was right at the door, approaching faster than he’d like, and, as much as he’d tried to get used to the thought, he simply wasn’t ready.

“It’s a show of good faith by the Uchiha to do this. Believe it or not, Madara cares. You’ve pulled your hand back many times when being faced with Izuna on the battlefield and he’s surely noticed that. He’s really not that bad, and I hope you realize that soon.”

Tobirama let out a humourless snort,

“You’re being blindly optimistic, anija.”

“No, you’re just too stubborn.” Hashirama grinned at him again, squeezing his shoulder, then let him go, “I better leave you to finish your preparations and get ready for the ceremony. It’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.”

“Thank you for warning me.”

“Don’t make it sound like an incoming attack.” Hashirama laughed and made his way to the door. “And you’re very welcome, Tobi. Please, be on time!” With that, he let the door fall closed behind his back and Tobirama glared at the wood,

“I’m always on time.” He muttered, then sighed and turned back to the shelves that still had so many scrolls on them which he’d decided to leave behind. He still needed to make a list of all of them to know what was here in case he ever needed one of them to be sent to him in the Uchiha compound. He took an empty scroll and a brush and got to the task, trying his best to take his attention away from what would be inevitably happening tomorrow.

Two hours, three newly filled scrolls and a lot of rearranging later, Tobirama could finally put an end to the preparations for his departure. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t dread what was to come. Despite all of Hashirama’s reassurances, Tobirama had only known Madara as a fierce enemy to be feared and his mind kept procuring him with images of the Uchiha in full armour, his gunbai in hand, letting the umpteenth fire jutsu loose over their heads and managing to take down a number of his clan with just one technique. And since Tobirama avoided looking at Madara’s face, lest he fall under a genjutsu, the only expressions he’d seen the other wear were either such of anger or of determination. That served only to make the mental image his brain had provided all the more terrifying, and Tobirama decided he needed a distraction to calm himself, because there was truly no way out of it. He had to find a way to deal with the fear, as it very well might turn out to be a constant companion from now on. 

He made his way to the bathroom, knowing that nothing worked as calmingly as water did, and seeing that he needed a shower before the ceremony anyway, the opportunity seemed to be the best he could hope for. Stripping out of the light blue yukata he’d had on during the day, he stepped under the shower and turned the water on, adjusting it to be as hot as he could take without getting burned, then closed his eyes and let the water wash his worries away.

It was his element, his nature, almost an extension of himself, and Tobirama concentrated on the streams falling along his skin, followed their path, their weight like a soft caress along the solidness of his body. The muscles that had tightened with the tension of thinking of his upcoming marriage to Madara slowly loosened, his quickened breathing slowed. It would all be well. He was far from helpless if the need to defend himself were to arise, and ninjutsu was far from the only thing he was capable of. And Hashirama’s unshakeable trust in Madara had to be based on something. He would try to get to know Madara first before judging him. Perhaps he was wrong to think of the Uchiha only as the vicious terror he had faced on the battlefield. He himself came off as uncaring and merciless when in battle, so it could easily be so that he had seen only what Madara had wanted him to see as his enemy. It made sense, they had been taught since they were children that shinobi had no emotions, and they had been first and foremost shinobi during the war. But, whatever hid behind Madara’s mask, Tobirama hoped that he would not end up suffering because of it.

Having made the decision to give the Uchiha a chance, Tobirama rinsed himself and turned the water off. Stepping out of the shower, he pulled the white towel to dry himself off, then wrapped it around his waist, collecting the discarded yukata along the way, and went back to his room. As he’d promised Hashirama that he’d be at the ceremony on time, he decided that it was time he got dressed and made his way to the tea room downstairs where they usually hosted such events. He probably had something more formal in the back of his closet, if he remembered correctly, and it should be suitable for the occasion.

Sure enough, he managed to find a dark blue kimono, a pale grey hakama and a lighter blue haori that would do for the ceremony. He quickly pulled the pieces on, making sure they were all fastened properly, then ran his hands a few times through his hair, trying to bring about at least some order, but soon giving it up as a lost cause. Picking up the worn yukata and the used towel, he made to discard them in the wooden box he had for dirty laundry, when someone knocked at his door. He let the clothes fall in the box and quickly went to the door to open it, ending up staring at a pair of eyes the same as his own. Before he could speak, Tobirama found himself enveloped in a hug and he quickly rose his arms to return the gesture.

“I don’t want you to go.” His mother’s tone was pleading, and he found himself wanting to grant her request with every piece of himself. But he knew that this time it was impossible.

“Neither do I. But it is my duty to our clan. It is my way of helping Hashirama towards his dream of a peaceful world.” He tightened his hold on her and felt her do the same in turn, “I told father I would do it, and I would not go back on my word.”

“I know, my son. I know.” His mother sighed, then stepped back from his arms to look at him fully. She then moved back towards him, lifting her hands to adjust his clothes in a few places, then softly caressed his head, making him lean unconsciously into her touch. “We must head down, the guests have arrived and the ceremony must begin soon.”

Tobirama nodded, carefully took hold of his mother’s elbow and they made their way towards the tea room, where various voices were already coming from.

Pulling open the shoji, Tobirama and his mother found themselves the centre of attention of all the occupants of the ceremonial room. Sitting around the low table were his father and brother on one side and Izuna with two more Uchiha on the other. Tobirama pulled the divider closed behind them and they walked to the others, his mother sitting down on Butsuma’s left, Tobirama on his right with Hashirama on his other side. The exterior doors towards the garden were pulled slightly open, the light of the setting sun filling the room with a warm glow, which contrasted starkly with the shivers of dread that went along Tobirama’s spine.

“Shall we begin, then?” Butsuma’s tone bore a note of impatience and Tobirama found himself agreeing with his father: the faster this was over, the more time he’d have to pretend that tomorrow wasn’t happening.

“Of course, now that my future brother-in-law is here.” Izuna said somewhat sarcastically and Tobirama realized that perhaps he ought to get used to such treatment from his former rival’s part. They might no longer engage in physical battle, but nothing stopped Izuna from belittling him with his words. Tobirama would just have to learn how to ignore him, then, if that was how their interactions were to be from now on; he had no desire to respond in kind, verbal insults without reason had never been appealing to him.

One of the Uchiha escorts opened a wooden box and Izuna pulled out a small cloth, unfolding it to reveal a silvery blue naga-noshi, which he then handed to Butsuma, who took it with a curt bow and set it in front of Tobirama. He had to admit it was the most beautiful shell he’d seen and wondered where exactly Madara had managed to find it. Maybe he could ask him one day, if all else was going well enough.

Then, Izuna presented Butsuma with a dark red shugi-bukuro, sealed with a thin white knotted string. The red of it reminded Tobirama of Madara’s armour and the dread was back. He looked away from the envelope, his eyes settling instead on the bonsai at the nearby wall that his mother had cared for and nurtured ever since Tobirama could remember. She had taught him as a child how to care for it as well, how beside its beauty, it also brought harmony, peace and order to the household, and Tobirama had found busying himself with it when stressed oddly soothing. He wished he could go to it now, adjust some of its branches, make sure that the soil had been watered and the roots still moist, check for any dried leaves, simply focus on it until his mind had calmed once more.

But he could not, as his attention was brought back to the others when Izuna brought out the next gift, the katsuo bushi in a small white porcelain bowl adorned with blue geometrical shapes. A similar bowl, this time with red designs instead of blue, was presented next, containing the surume. Then, a third one, decorated in purple swirls, filled with dried seaweed, the konbu. Tobirama wondered whether he’d have to bring these gifts with him to the Uchiha compound tomorrow. Most likely, as his leaving them behind could be taken as him refusing them and he didn’t want any negative consequences over something so small.

Next came the shiraga, and Tobirama was surprised of the thickness of the white string. It represented the strength of the family ties, and as far as he knew, Madara deeply loved his younger brother, but to present him with it? Perhaps Hashirama was right and Madara cared for him, at least somewhat. Or it could be simple formality and had no meaning to the Uchiha whatsoever. It was truly unsettling, not knowing what to think, and Tobirama turned his gaze to the long katana exposed along one of the walls. He remembered sitting here, his father polishing the sword and telling him its history, how it belonged to one of their ancestors who had won many a battle with it in his hand. Admittedly, it was what had inspired him to become so proficient with a sword himself, and now, not knowing whether he’d have access to his chakra from tomorrow on, he was thankful to his father for encouraging him to perfect his swordsmanship.

The hakusen was presented next, made of black wood with golden inscriptions, the folded paper inside a dark red. It was expertly crafted, and Tobirama hoped that it was to show that Madara wished for its symbolism of happiness to reach them. It might simply be a showing off of wealth and craftsmanship, yet Tobirama wanted it to be otherwise. But foolish want would probably only lead to disappointment, so he chose to focus on what was being presented next instead.

The yanagi daru was of the same dark red with black decorations and golden inscriptions as the hakusen. It raised slightly taller than other wine casks Tobirama had seen before and perhaps the difference in shape was simply due to an Uchiha custom he was not aware of. Their customs probably differed from the Senju ones in some, if not many ways. Would he be able to get accustomed to them easily? Would he be even allowed to take part in them? He would admit that he was curious to see the differences, as traditions and customs were of the things that defined a people, and they would surely help him understand the Uchiha better.

Lastly, it came to the final gift: a white wooden sake cask with light blue waves painted on the front. The water imagery alluded to the cask’s symbolism as a promise of gentleness in the marriage. But Tobirama was well aware of the object having another meaning as well – obedience. He knew it would be expected of him, to consent to Madara’s every whim. It didn’t sit well with him, being ordered about, no matter that he’d spent his life following his father’s orders, yet he knew that now he’d have little choice, being surrounded by Uchiha and no more than at Madara’s mercy. He’d have to play his role, and the easier he could make it for himself, the better.

“Thank you for the gifts, Uchiha-san, they are well received.” Butsuma said through his teeth, tearing Tobirama away from his thoughts. “Please, join us for a celebratory dinner.”

“With pleasure, Senju-sama.” Izuna smirked and Tobirama could hear his father grit his teeth in annoyance, as they all got up and made their way to the large room which his father often used to hold important meetings or celebratory meals in, such as this one was to be.

The table had already been set and Tobirama could spot some of his favourite meals. As they took their seats, it suddenly occurred to him that this was to be the final dinner he would have in his home with his family. His chest tightened and he looked down at the edge of the table, trying to take a hold of his features and keep them as neutral as he could. He shouldn’t be showing weakness like this, especially not in front of Izuna and the two other Uchiha. He’d have to remain calm and enjoy the most he could of the remaining time with his family. He swallowed down, took hold of his chopsticks, thanked in a low voice for the food, and dug in, taking small bites in order to prolong the meal as much as he could.

The dinner itself was a mostly silent affair, the only noise his mother’s sparse inquiries about Izuna’s journey here, the safety of the Uchiha compound and the well-being of Izuna’s mother. Izuna’s answers weren’t particularly long, but his tone was polite and even bore a hint of softness when asked of his mother that honestly surprised Tobirama. It probably shouldn’t have, considering he spoke of his own mother with the same softness, but the fact that it was his life-long rival made the whole ordeal more bizarre. Logically, he knew the younger Uchiha couldn’t be entirely hateful towards everything, him protecting Madara and others of his clansmen in battle was proof enough that he cared. It was also the realization that he had so much to learn about who the Uchiha were that startled him; being told that they were nothing more than a faceless, vicious enemy to be slaughtered his entire life had shaped his view on them in a way that was starting to be challenged and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it yet. Then again, as with the marriage, he didn’t have much of a choice but to adapt in the best way he could.

Once the food had been finished, Tobirama was reluctant to leave the room, selfishly wanting to spend more time with his family. He should probably try to get as much sleep as he could, considering that the next day he would have a journey to make to the Uchiha compound and then he’d have to go through the whole wedding and that would surely be much more tiring than the journey there. But he’d gone on almost no sleep before and he could manage a simple wedding, no? It wasn’t like he was expected to fight, in the end, or at least he certainly hoped not.

The two Uchiha escorts excused themselves to retire for the night, and Izuna got up too, but his words were not what Tobirama expected to hear,

“Tobirama-san, could we perhaps have a word in private?” his tone was neutrally calm and even the honorific lacked a biting note. A bit unsettled, Tobirama nodded and gestured for Izuna to follow him out in the garden.

Under the oak, Tobirama turned to face Izuna, wary of what was to come. The Uchiha reached behind himself and pulled forth a long thin deep red cloth which was wrapped around something. He extended it towards Tobirama who looked at it suspiciously, making no move to take it. Izuna sighed impatiently,

“This is a gift my brother wanted for me to give you. He truly wishes the predicament you two are finding yourselves in were not such, but as nothing can be done to change that, he is willing to try his best to make it as easy for you both as he can. He thought this could make his intentions clear.”

Izuna brought the wrapped cloth closer to him and this time, Tobirama reached out to take it. Upon unwrapping the soft cloth, he found a beautifully crafted katana, encased in pearly white wood with dark red decorations along its length. He carefully pulled the blade free, only to find the kanji for ‘fearsome warrior’ grafted expertly under the handle. The sharpness of the blade reflected the light of the lit lanterns and Tobirama found himself speechless as he admired the sword.

“If you even think of using this to hurt my brother, no peace treaty is going to stop me from coming after you.” Izuna broke the silence and Tobirama looked back at him almost startled,

“I don’t think I’d be in a position to even pose a threat to your brother, Izuna.”

“You’ve quite the crafty mind, so I just thought I’d warn you.” Izuna smirked at him, his words almost sounding like a compliment, and Tobirama was lost yet again as to how he was supposed to react. Luckily, the Uchiha spared him from agonizing over what to do, “We better get some rest. Long day ahead tomorrow.” With that, he turned and walked back towards the house, leaving Tobirama to hold his gift dumbfoundedly.

So, Hashirama was right and Madara did indeed care. Maybe not exclusively for him, but he had tried to consider the situation from Tobirama’s point of view and honestly, that was more than the Senju had even hoped to receive. And the katana, besides being beautifully crafted, was a means to defend himself if needed, and being given that of all things helped calm at least some of his worries. Perhaps Madara himself wouldn’t be going out of his way to make him suffer. Perhaps he could believe in Hashirama’s reassurances that all would be well.

He, too, wished to make the situation easier for the two of them. And seeing that Madara had chosen to express that by giving him a gift which the tradition did not require, maybe he could answer in turn the same way. But what sort of gift would be as meaningful to Madara as the katana had been to him?

Tobirama wrapped the red cloth around the katana securely and made his way back to his room, deep in thought. He knew almost nothing about Madara. He was a skilled warrior, strength rivalling that of Hashirama, had a strongly defined fire affinity and was very protective of his clan. That seemed to be all he had to work with, and he could hardly go and ask his brother or Izuna for more information. He’d just have to figure it out on his own.

Carefully setting the new katana down next to the objects he meant to take with himself, Tobirama took an empty scroll and a brush, and sat down at his desk to try and think of something. With his attacks, Madara clearly needed no help at all; he was more than proficient at what he did. But sometimes it was being too concentrated on the battle one’s engaged in that kept one from protecting the others. He himself knew that feeling all too well and had tinkered some years back with a protective barrier to cast for others that let him go back to his own fight without posing a big distraction. It was originally based on his affinity and expert control of water, but perhaps he could modify it a bit and make it fit Madara’s fire nature? If the techniques the Uchiha used were anything to go by, the older one had mastered the control over his own element just as well as Tobirama himself had of his own, therefore the barrier would not be too complicated to cast for the other. And fire could even prove to be more suitable than water, given that it would burn every weapon or person that tried to pass through it, rendering all the attacks useless and would even be harmful to the attacker. Yes, maybe this could work. Now, he only needed to figure out how to modify it from a water technique to a fire one.

And perhaps he could even exhaust himself enough to catch some sleep and not simply roll around his bed the whole night, filled with worries over the events of the upcoming day.


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops, this one got a bit away from me, I'd intended for it to be much shorter and less detailed, but oh well.
> 
> I find it important to mention the ages of the four, as it would explain why they act a certain way: Tobirama - 17, slightly before 18; Madara - 20; Izuna - 16, slightly before 17; Hashirama - 21. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm looking forward to hear what you think of it!

An insistent knocking at his door was what finally pulled Tobirama away from restless sleep and he groggily sat up in his bed, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. The knocking sounded again, and he sighed, throwing the covers away and making his way to the door to see who needed him so early.

He was met with his mother’s kind smiling face,

“I’m sorry for waking you up so abruptly, dear, but it’s almost noon and we’ll have to leave for the Uchiha compound after lunch. We’re expecting you downstairs, so come down whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll be there shortly, thank you, mother.”

She nodded softly, then turned to leave, and he closed the door, rubbing at the marking on one of his cheeks. The modification of the jutsu he’d intended for Madara’s gift had proven to be trickier than he’d originally thought and in order to finish it, he’d spent almost the whole night scribbling away on scroll after scroll until he’d been satisfied with the result. He didn’t know what time exactly it had been when he’d finally crawled into bed, but it must have been shortly before dawn, given that he’d slept the entire morning away, something which was more Hashirama’s habit than his own.

Passing through the bathroom briefly, Tobirama pulled on some travelling clothes with a thin under-armour, then put the last belongings he wanted to take, including the gift for Madara, into a leather bag he’d have with himself during their travel so no one else would take hold of it. Casting a look over the wooden crates containing all his other belongings, he made his way down to where his family had already sat around the table, waiting for him to join them for lunch.

“Tobi! How are you feeling today?” Hashirama grinned at him enthusiastically as Tobirama took his place on his brother’s right, and the younger one sighed,

“As well as is to be expected, given the circumstances.” And wasn’t than an understatement.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Hashirama had the audacity to pout as he continued to be oblivious to Tobirama’s foul mood, and that turned out to be a bit too much for the younger Senju,

“Don’t be like what, anija?! I’m about to be married off to the enemy with no way of knowing what’s to follow, and you expect me to be dying of happiness, is that it?!” his irritation had made him raise his voice unconsciously, but he quickly took hold of himself as his father banged his fist on the table,

“Behave.” Butsuma didn’t shout, but it was unnecessary as both of them knew when to obey their father.

“Forgive us, father.” Tobirama hadn’t meant to sour his final meal with his family so, but he was too overwhelmed by the upcoming wedding and the changes it would bring to his life, that he was finding it somewhat difficult to keep himself under the perfect control he had devoted years to mastering.

Butsuma grunted in acknowledgement and they started their lunch in a somewhat tense silence. Tobirama knew he should have tried to hold back, none of this was Hashirama’s fault after all. The last thing he wanted was for the little time they had left together to be spend bickering or avoiding to speak at all, and he regretted not being good enough with words, hoping that either Hashirama or his mother would say something to put an end to the tension.

“I spoke with Izuna-san earlier.” His mother began in a steady, quiet tone, and Tobirama wondered where she was going with this, but at the same time was glad that the charged atmosphere was broken. “He said that all the preparations for the ceremony have been taken care of by their clan, and that anything you might need for it has already been provided.”

“Very considerate of them.” He made sure to keep his tone neutral as to avoid disrupting this fragile calmness that had returned in the room.

“It’s the least they can do, considering it was their demand and it’s them forcing you into this.” his father stated, finishing up his meal.

“I doubt Madara’s being more eager than me.” Tobirama put down his chopsticks neatly but kept his eyes down on them; sometimes an expression said more than words and he could not risk that.

“Who knows what that little spit-fire’s thinking. He didn’t offer any protests during the meeting.” Butsuma’s voice left no question on what exactly his opinion on the Uchiha heir was, and Hashirama was quick to speak up for his friend,

“Madara is extremely loyal to his clan and would never go against something that can ensure its safety!”

“In that case we should have offered to have their younger brat marry you instead, if you like them so much!” this time, Butsuma did raise his voice and Tobirama swallowed down to steady himself before speaking,

“That would not be needed. I will go through with what has been agreed upon.”

“Of course you will. I expect as much from the son I can always rely on to do what must be done.” Not even sparing him a glance, Butsuma narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at Hashirama, who glared back, and Tobirama knew he must say something before either of them lost their temper fully,

“Please forgive Hashirama for misspeaking, father. He’s only trying to look out for me.”

His words were completely ignored as the two older Senju continued to glare at one another, until Hashirama spoke in a low voice,

“Madara would never abuse my brother. He wouldn’t even think of doing that, unlike half of your own household.”

At that, the charged atmosphere was back in an instant and Tobirama wanted to go back to his bed and never have to leave again. He’d wanted to have a pleasant meal with his family, a warm memory to keep him company for the rest of his life away from them. What he had gotten instead was a picture of his family fighting because of him and he wished he knew how to set things right. He looked up to his mother, but she had cast her own eyes downwards, a sorrowful expression adorning the features so very similar to his own, and he knew that she had no way of pacifying the two men this time.

“Why do you think I agreed to this in the end?” Butsuma’s voice had that strange tiredness to it, and it drew Tobirama’s eyes back to his father, wide with surprise, “I needed to get him away, and perhaps the situation with the Uchiha could be better. They would do anything for their own out of love, and by marrying Tobirama into their clan, he essentially would become one of them. I hope this would be enough to gain him their protection.”

Silence followed once more, and Tobirama kept staring at his father in shock. The thought that this was part of the reason Butsuma had conceded to this demand had never even crossed his mind. But to have it stated so bluntly, to learn that his father cared so, proved to be too much. In his already overwhelmed state, Tobirama could do little but press his lips tightly together and lean his head forward to hide his face, breathing deeply to try and keep a hold on his control. He cleared his mind of all but the images and sensations running water brought with it, having learned long ago that it was the most efficient method when it came to gaining back the grasp on himself. It proved to function this time as well, and once sure he had everything in hand, Tobirama stood from his place and walked over to his father at the head of the table, bowing down at the waist,

“Thank you, father. I will not disappoint you.”

“That’s the last thing I’m worried about. If you’re finished here, go gather your things. We must leave shortly and the Uchiha brat and his two play-mates are probably already waiting for us at the gates.” Butsuma’s voice had gained back its usual strength, no sign left from that strange tiredness, and it helped ground Tobirama as well, his father’s annoyance at having to follow someone else’s lead a well-known occurrence.

The younger Senju nodded and left for his room to take his things. In the end, the memory he would be left with would be a positive one. He was glad he’d get to treasure such an admission; it had been more than he’d ever hoped to receive.

Once he’d loaded all his crates into the carts they’d be using to transport his things, he went up to his room for a final time. As it were late January and the temperatures outside had lowered unpleasantly, Tobirama pulled a dark blue cloak around his shoulders and fastened it in the front, making sure that it would keep the chilling air out. He then took his leather bag, opening it to make sure that the scroll for Madara was securely inside, then sealed it shut and put it over his head, so it would not fall off his shoulder. Once finished, he made his way to the gates where his family, the three Uchiha and ten more Senju serving as escorts were already waiting for him.

“Let’s go, then, we’ve got quite the day ahead.” Izuna said, and for a second Tobirama thought it sounded slightly like teasing, but he knew better and discarded that illogical thought away.

He fell into step next to Hashirama, and their group made its way into the forest. Because of the loaded carts, they were forced to travel the civilian way, which meant it should take them about three hours to reach the Uchiha compound. That left Tobirama with more time to get lost in his thoughts and this was the last thing he wanted. He still hadn’t completely regained his full control over his feelings, so thinking about the fact that mere hours divided him from his binding to the Uchiha would only make him lose his grip again.

Instead, he decided to focus on his surroundings. He dispensed a small amount of chakra, not even needing to concentrate much until he was washed over by the immense presence of Hashirama’s powerful chakra next to him. Luckily, he’d had his whole life to get used to this feeling of being almost dwarfed by such force, so it didn’t take him that long to be able to sense the others’ chakra signatures as well. The first one he found was Izuna’s, as his was just as strong as Tobirama’s own, and the younger Senju was closely familiar with it from their many encounters on the battlefield. While Hashirama’s felt steading, reminding him of the old great oak they had in the garden, of the freshness of spring and bright new life, of home, Izuna’s was barely contained, spiking around him wildly, giving off an allusion to a wildfire, uncontainable and deadly, but stunning nevertheless. Tobirama did his best to memorise it like this, supposedly as peaceful and contained as Izuna could get it, not roaring around him in the heat of battle; having at least one familiar chakra presence in the Uchiha compound would be calming, despite the fact that he and the younger Uchiha were on far from friendly terms.

Sensing beyond the two powerful signatures, he found his father’s carefully controlled presence and his mother calm and soothing one. Despite not being as strong as the two others, they had been a familiar aspect throughout his whole life, so finding them was almost automatic by now.

The signatures of the other Senju followed, having known them from before by sensing them around the compound or on the battlefield, and lastly those of the two other Uchiha, which turned out familiar as well, possibly from some of the battles too. But if they had been sent as escorts with Izuna, then they were clearly trusted within their clan, so Tobirama memorized their chakra, taking advantage of the small numbers of their group as to not disrupt him too much.

It didn’t take him long, and soon after he let his chakra sweep into the surrounding nature. In the midst of winter, there weren’t as many animals going about; there’s the occasional owl, some wolves, a few rabbits, and numerous crows, yet all of them steer away from the humans. Or were simply hiding away from the snow, he imagined the forest animals tended to dislike it. His summons, on the other hand, the snow leopards would love it here, surrounded by tall thick trees and running around the snow-covered ground. Were he back at the Senju compound, he would have summoned them, if only simply to see how they were, if they were in need of any help, and of course to witness their enjoyment of the snow. He wondered whether he’d be allowed to do so once in the Uchiha lands. He truly hoped so, it would be better if they could get familiar with the new territory where he was about to spend the rest of his life; in the least, they needed to know their way around it. And they needed to be familiar with Madara, too; if the Uchiha turned out trustworthy in the end, as Hashirama was trying to make him believe, then the leopards should be let to know not to attack him. But first, he had to see for himself what sort of man Madara truly was. He desperately hoped that he was wrong in his negative expectations for the older one. Hashirama kept insisting that Madara cared, and now his father too seemed to think the Uchiha would protect him; and there was the katana Izuna had given him, the means to protect himself gifted to him by Madara himself. Perhaps it would all be well, maybe even his father’s hopes would not be in vain. At least, Tobirama would try to do his best to make it so.

As he made the silent vow to himself, they reached the gates to the Uchiha compound. They didn’t differ that much from the ones leading to the Senju grounds, only the crests on the top and the sides were the Uchiha one. And they raised slightly taller than the Senju ones, just like the wine cask he’d received as an engagement gift was taller than what they had; perhaps the Uchiha simply preferred height to mass in their art, the opposite of the Senju.

They entered along a gravel path, aligned on both sides by kobushi magnolia trees that had lost both their blossoms and leaves during the winter and looked ominously dead as they led him to his new life. At the end of the path, Uchiha Tajima and his wife were waiting for them, the Clan Head with a downturn to his mouth, and the woman with a soft smile which reminded Tobirama of his own mother. Madara was nowhere to be found, however. Their group stopped before the two Uchiha and Izuna grinned at his parents,

“As promised, the Senju is delivered safe and sound.”

Tajima glared disapprovingly at his son’s antics, while his mother’s smile widened slightly,

“I hope your journey here has been a pleasant one.” She was addressing Butsuma, but she was facing Tobirama’s mother instead, communicating silently something to her. His mother seemed to understand her somehow, because she smiled softly in turn and Tobirama was surprised by the honesty of her smile,

“Thank you, lady Uchiha, we had no trouble on the way.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now, if you’d follow us, we’ll show you to where you’ll be staying for the night. Tobirama, dear, your belongings will be brought to the house you’d be sharing with Madara in the meanwhile, don’t worry about them.”

Slightly startled by being addressed directly, and in such a way at that, he fell back on taught manners and bowed his head at the woman,

“Thank you for the consideration, lady Uchiha.”

She hummed pleasantly, then she and Tajima turned to head to the northern part of the compound, their group following closely behind.

The compound itself seemed to be made up mostly from one-storey houses, the rise of their roofs almost as high as the walls themselves. While everything seemed to be decorated, it was not overtly so and Tobirama had to admit it was rather beautiful. The Senju paid more attention to their gardens, not really bothering much with the buildings themselves, while the Uchiha seemed to be invested in the details, expertly crafting different shapes in the wood, turning a simple building into a work of art. He wondered if Madara had any such inclinations and what sort of craft he had chosen to devote his time to. Was he as masterful in it as he was on the battlefield? Tobirama was surprised to find himself eager to learn more about the older Uchiha, his worries momentarily forgotten; but it was only to be expected, given his curious nature. Perhaps this could work in his favour: if he thought about Madara as a subject to be explored, he could hope to ignore the terror he associated with the other. He would lose nothing if he were to try it out, in the end.

They stopped before three houses, not much different from all the rest, if only a bit less decorated, and Lady Uchiha turned back to face them,

“This is where you’ll be staying. The middle house is for your family, Senju-sama, and the other two for your escorts. I hope you find them to your liking.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Uchiha, Uchiha-sama.” Butsuma answered through his teeth, but it did nothing to smother the female Uchiha’s smile,

“We’d leave you to get some rest now. The ceremony should start in about two hours, so there is still some time.”

They exchanged bows and the Uchiha made their way back to the innards of the compound, leaving them to settle.

Tobirama, Hashirama and their parents walked into the house in the middle, and the younger Senju was relieved to find it already warm. As they made their way to the back of the house where the bedrooms supposedly were, Tobirama shrugged off his cloak and looked around. Many wooden elements were left uncovered along the creamy off-white walls, giving the space a sense of measured rhythm and cleanly-cut borders. The occasional calligraphy scroll or ikebana vase gave off the feeling of a lived-in space, and Tobirama found himself admiring once again the Uchiha’s attention to detail.

They reached the first door and Hashirama moved to open it, revealing one of the bedrooms. On the bed inside were laid out two formal outfits, one white and the other in shades of blue. His brother turned to face him, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, irritating Tobirama,

“It seems this one’s to be yours, Tobi.”

Tobirama hummed noncommittedly and walked past Hashirama into the room, closing the door behind his back. He had two hours left to compose himself, and he couldn’t spend them by dealing with his brother’s idiocy. He walked over to the chair next to the window, laying his travel cloak over it, then took off the leather bag, opening it to see the scroll and his other useful things still safely inside, then sealed it again and put it down on the small table next to the chair. Turning to look at the clothes laid out on the bed, he felt his irritation spike up. By oh so conveniently preparing everything for him, the Uchiha were forcing him to parade in white, belittling him and sticking his new position as Madara’s little spouse in his face. Of course they’d be taking the first chance to sneer at him, to show him what exactly they thought of him, of how insignificant he was to be.

Narrowing his eyes at the offending garments, Tobirama decided that a shower would do to give him back his composure. Stripping unceremoniously out of his simple travel clothes and leaving them uncaringly on the floor, he made his way over to the screens to the side that were pulled open to reveal the small adjoined bathroom. Not even bothering to look around, he turned on the water and let it cover him as fully as it could, closing his eyes to focus better on the feeling.

However, when usually it would have calmed him almost instantaneously, now it only unnerved him further. With the absence of all the others he’d been surrounded by while on the road, the sudden silence gave him room to think, and his mind conjured up unwelcome images of Madara on the battlefield, enveloped in fire and furious, and despite the heat of the running water, Tobirama felt shivers run up his spine. It was truly happening, they were going to be bind together, he’d be subjected to that fury for the rest of his life and there was no way out. He had no choice but to go through with it and hope that Madara would ignore his presence and would simply be left to his devices in their house. And oh, they’d be living together, so there was no way he’d be left alone. But it was better like this, perhaps, if he were to be humiliated, it would be only in front of Madara and not the whole Uchiha clan. But what if Madara decided to demean him publicly, and what if it were not only humiliation, he couldn’t take on all of them at once, for all of his strength he was not Hashirama. And then Hashirama would be so disappointed if Tobirama were to do something to prevent his dream from coming true, what if him trying to protect himself ruined the peace and Hashirama’s dream with it, he couldn’t do this to his anija, he had to do his best. He’d go through with it, he had to.

Shivering, Tobirama went back to the bedroom and shakily put on the white garments, tying them messily, and pulling them tighter around himself, unconsciously trying to protect himself from the world. Then he simply stood there, frozen, staring at the ikebana on the desk below the window, mind going over the proportions and the subtle way one needed to position them, all the small rules to be followed that his cousin Touka had tried to explain to him once, and how he’d called it useless. But now it seemed like a piece of home in a foreign place, and he was so surprized at the thought he failed to hear the knocking on his door a few times until it got insistent enough.

Snapping out of his stupor, Tobirama went to open and was met with his mother looking at him worriedly. He let her in then, closing the door quietly, and she didn’t take long to hug him tightly, starting to run her hand through his hair soothingly, trying to comfort him. And he clung to her, staring unseeingly at a spot on the floor, body rigid with tension.

“What are you thinking of, dear?” her voice was soft, the same as she would use when he had been a child and she’d find him crying, huddled somewhere he’d thought no one would see him. But he could not worry her so, lest she talk him out of the whole ordeal, and he could not let this happen, the breaking of the peace and his brother’s dream would not be his fault.

“I’m simply trying to adjust to this new environment. The Uchiha seem to focus on the little details much more than we do.”

He couldn’t see her face then, but could clearly feel her smile indulgingly, knowing well that he’s lying to her but letting him be nonetheless, and saying instead,

“You did a horrible job of putting your clothes on properly. I’m very familiar with your dislike of formal wear, but every once in a while you’ll have to suffer through it.”

At that, he let out a small shaky laugh, pulling slightly back and letting his mother adjust his clothes to how they should be, fastening them better around his form. She held out the white haori for him to put on, then took the long white headband, tying it at the back of his head to keep the messy strands of hair out of his eyes.

Pulling back to look at him, she smiled softly and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it, savouring the sensation.

“I’m sure you’ll adjust quickly to this. You’re my brilliant boy and you’ll surely find a way to make everything work out for the best.”

“I hope so, as well.” He said quietly, lifting a hand to capture his mother’s in it, holding it tightly.

His mother leaned up to kiss his other cheek, then looked at him softly once more,

“It’s time for us to go. You mustn’t worry, it’ll be over faster than you believe.”

He nodded reluctantly, and with his mother’s elbow carefully in his hold, they made their way out of the house. At the front, his father and his brother, as well as Izuna and his own mother are waiting for them to lead them to the shrine where the ceremony was supposed to be taking place. Tobirama took a deep breath, and stepped out of the door.


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weddings are supposed to be fun, right? Right?!
> 
> Tobirama can't deal with emotions and Madara is definitely not helping with that.

Walking through the Uchiha compound and towards the shrine, Tobirama was completely blind to his surroundings, letting his mother guide him by the hand he had tucked in her bent elbow. His mind was buzzing and he could not distinguish a single clear thought, too overwhelmed by what was to happen.

He vaguely registered as they walked below the three tall fire-red torii in front of the shrine, then up the nine steps that led to the interior of the sacred building, which was made out of the same wood like the trees that surrounded it, its roof as tall as the walls. They stopped briefly in front of the chouzuya to cleanse themselves before entering the temple, and Tobirama went over the custom automatically, having done it many times before: pour water on his right hand, then the left, then fill some in his left to touch to his mouth, symbolically purifying his soul as well as his form.

Taking hold of his mother’s arm once more, Tobirama allowed himself to be guided forward, between the two imposing komainu guardian statues, into the shrine. The first thing that caught his eye were the two hanging paper lanterns with three black tomoe painted on them. Reminiscent of the pattern of the Sharingan, it was most likely an allusion to the Uchiha’s power being a gift from the gods. Feeling a shiver go up his spine, Tobirama lowered his gaze to the centre of the altar, and found a priest in red robes, Uchiha Tajima in a black formal kimono, and lastly Uchiha Madara, turned to face him directly. Instinctively, the young Senju moved his eyes away from the Uchiha’s, instead settling them on the uchiwa on the other’s black haori, a safe distance away in case the other decided to activate his doujutsu.

Faster than he’d like, Tobirama found himself stopping as his mother did, mere steps away from his husband-to-be, and his mother let his arm fall, moving to take her place next to his father on the altar’s right side. Swallowing hard, he crossed the remaining distance, and together with Madara, who had turned to face the priest, thankfully, kneeled down in front of the gods’ representative.

As the priest started his barely audible prayer to appease the gods and purify them completely, preparing them for the gods’ blessings, Tobirama stared ahead of himself unblinkingly, tuning out all of his surroundings. Pretending this wasn’t happening did in no way mean that it would all go away, but he could lie to himself for a while, imagine that he was attending a celebratory ritual instead of the one marking the end of his free will. Yes, it was nothing more than the ceremony for the winter solstice, and after the offerings were made, he’d go and enjoy the festivities with Hashirama at his side, trying to keep his brother from overeating, and they’d go in the gardens to see the lanterns, pulling their haori tighter around themselves to keep the cold out, and they’d walk down the lit path-

A small porcelain dish was offered to him, the sake inside splashing about, and Tobirama was startled out of his thoughts so suddenly, that he looked the priest straight in the eyes, forgetting the ever-present danger of the Sharingan. However, he was stunned as he was faced with greyish white irises instead of blood red ones with intricate black swirling around in them. Then the realisation came that the man in front of him was completely blind, and Tobirama found himself once more utterly confused. Why would a clan so proud of their visual prowess have a priest that clearly lacked it? As far as Tobirama assumed, they believed their Sharingan a gift from the gods, so why would a sightless man be their adversary? It was such a paradox, and his interest was immediately piqued, wanting to solve it, to know the answer, to figure it out as soon as he could, it simply didn’t make sense and he needed to know, he just-

“Tobirama.” The priest called out his name, making him blink back to the present moment, and the young Senju lowered his head, taking hold of the offered dish,

“Forgive me.” He said quietly, taking the first three symbolic sips for the love, wisdom and happiness which were believed to grow over time in marriage. Handing over the small dish to Madara on his left, Tobirama chanced a glance at the lower part of his face, finding it in a tightly held neutral expression. A mask, clearly, and the younger was far from eager to find out what was hidden behind it.

Turning back towards the priest, Tobirama took the offered slightly bigger dish, and took the next three sips: hatred, passion, ignorance. As he handed over the dish, his eyes returned to the uchiwa on Madara’s haori, praying that the three sins would not be constant companions in his life from now on.

His grip on the third, largest dish was tight, trying to hide the slight shaking of his fingers. The final three sips, of heaven, earth and mankind, were believed to absolve them of the three sins, and Tobirama hoped desperately that the belief was based on some truth, that the ritual was enough to make their binding peaceful, or at least to take away the hate. As he made to hand it over to Madara, he pulled his hands away as soon as the other had touched it, and the sake would have spilled if the Uchiha hadn’t been quick to catch it steadily. Ashamed by such an obvious tell of his weakness, Tobirama lowered his head, staring at the wooden floorboards intently.

The ceremony continued, the priest bringing the shinsen food offerings over to the altar, then saying another prayer to gain the gods’ blessing and finalize their binding. During the whole ordeal, Tobirama kept his head low and his eyes to the floor, trying to gain control over himself as best as he could. He shouldn’t allow himself to be seen as weak from the very beginning, lest the Uchiha declare him unfit for their heir and annul everything, destroying the peace in the process. He’d go through with it, it was only a wedding, a meal and a cohabitation; he’d come face to face with death many times on the battlefield and retained his composure, yet was terrified by something so simple? He had to get a grip on himself and stop being so ridiculous.

Seeing Madara rising to his feet from the corner of his eye made Tobirama focus back on the present, and he stood as well, turning to walk out of the shrine now that the ritual had been finalized. Before he could take a step, however, his now-husband offered his arm for him to take hold of, and Tobirama, steeling himself determinately, entwined their arms, keeping his eyes glued to the temple’s entrance. Madara let out a barely audible sigh and began walking, the younger one not a step behind.

They stopped as they had passed below the final torii gate, Madara turning to face him, and Tobirama turned as well, avoiding the other’s eyes and settling his gaze on his mouth instead, still pressed tightly in that neutral line,

“We’re expected to have a celebratory meal with our families in the main house, so we should go change. Can you find your way to the house later or should I send someone?”

Swallowing down his immediate urge to reject any sort of help, to not show himself weak, Tobirama nodded instead,

“I would appreciate if you do, thank you.”

Madara nodded in turn, then let go of his arm and joined the rest of the Uchiha family, who made their way towards the centre of the compound.

Tobirama joined his own family, softly taking hold of his mother’s arm more to feel her comforting presence than for support, and they left towards the house they had been given for their stay. No one said a word during the time, and Tobirama was thankful for that, still not ready to face the reality of what had happened. His mother walked with him all the way to his door and as they reached it, she tightened her hold on him, looking him in the eyes,

“If you need more time to let it out and recompose yourself, you can have it.”

“No. No, there’s no need, I’m fine.” His voice came out weaker than he’d hoped, contradicting his words, but his mother smiled indulgingly at him,

“Let me know if you change your mind. Now, do you need any help with the other kimono?”

“Thank you, but I’ll manage. Don’t worry about me, mother, it’ll be okay.” He knew he was trying to convince himself more than her, but she’d understand, she always did.

“It will be okay, yes. Keep that in mind, my son, and don’t get lost in imagined terrors.” She leaned towards him, kissing his marked cheek, then made her way down the corridor leading deeper within the house to the other bedrooms.

Sighing, Tobirama let himself in the room, closing the door carefully behind his back, and made his way to the bed where the change of clothes still lay. He took off the garments he’d worn during the ceremony, hoping that he’d never have to see them again, and put them neatly down next to the change. This time around, he paid more attention to his dressing, fastening the items properly and adjusting them when needed. The dark blue hakama looked black if not directly hit with light, he noticed, and the kimono and haori were in the same slightly lighter shade of blue that was very similar to what he chose to wear usually. It seemed that the Uchiha had done right by tradition in this instance as well, figuratively dressing him in his husband’s colours with the two red and white uchiwa on the front of his haori and the much bigger one on the back. By stitching their symbol over a colour he thought of as his preferred, they were leaving no doubt that he belonged to them now, all his personal inclinations included. He run a hand through his messy hair irritably, and decided that he didn’t care if he’d have to parade with an uchiwa on his clothes everywhere, as long as he’d be left to his devices.

Smoothing out some imaginary wrinkles along the haori, then taking the leather bag with his few belongings and the scroll for Madara, Tobirama made his way back towards the entrance to the house, where his family and Izuna were already waiting. The young Uchiha smirked,

“The uchiwa looks good on you.”

Holding back a biting response that would probably only worsen the situation, Tobirama tried to keep his tone even,

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Ah, eager, aren’t you?” Izuna’s smirk widened, but he turned without waiting for him to respond and went off towards the main house.

His parents followed the Uchiha, while Hashirama came closer to him, whispering,

“Are you alright, Tobi?”

“I’m fine.” His voice managed to come out as strong as Tobirama had hoped, and he chanced a look at his brother, trying to convey to him that it was all fine. Surprisingly, it seemed to work, because Hashirama smiled softly at him and inclined his head in the direction of where the others had gone, a clear question whether he wanted to follow them or not. Tobirama nodded and the two brothers made their way towards the main house.

The building was very similar to the surrounding ones, if only slightly taller and larger; the colouring as well as the materials were the same ones as those of the other houses, and Tobirama thought it was a good tactic to not make it stand out in case the compound was under attack. The interior was also similar to what he’d seen in the house the Senju had been assigned to stay at, yet more decorated, which made it feel more lived-in and homey. The ceremonial room where the celebratory meal was to be held had its floors covered in tatami mats and the shoji to the garden pulled slightly open, letting the last rays of the sun illuminate the interior. Tobirama was reminded of the previous night back in the Senju compound and the engagement ceremony in their tea room. Before he could decide whether the association was a positive or a negative sign, his brother’s voice brought his attention to the current moment,

“For someone who wanted to get this over with, you’re standing around for quite the long time. I’d suggest you go join Madara at your table so we can at least start this.”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes at Hashirama’s teasing tone, but complied nonetheless, making his way over to the low podium with the small table where Madara was already waiting. Without exchanging a greeting, the two of them took their places, the rest of their families following suit, and the meal could begin.

The atmosphere was incredibly tense, and Tobirama kept his eyes firmly on the dishes before him, taking only the tiniest bites. His stomach had closed, but he still had to show his gratitude and enjoyment of the food, so he forced himself to at least eat some of the salmon nigiri that was generously laid out in front of them. Madara didn’t seem to be much more hungry either, as he ate even less than Tobirama, nor made any move to touch the sake. Unfortunately, Tobirama was left no choice in this, as Hashirama decided to make a toast, possibly in an attempt to break the tension,

“I would like to wish my little brother and my friend a very joyous marriage. I hope that you manage to find someone to confide in in each other, and that you can always be sure that the other will be there to protect you. Let this mark the beginning of a lasting peace between the Uchiha and the Senju, and may the peace bring prosper.” He lifted his sake dish slightly in a greeting, and the rest of their families followed his lead, lifting their own dishes.

Madara let out a quiet sigh that Tobirama was sure only he got to hear, then lifted his own dish. Tobirama followed, taking the smallest of sips, and carefully put the porcelain back down on the table. His brother’s speech had barely succeeded in breaking the tension, but it seemed to be enough, as Lady Uchiha stood up next, lifting her dish,

“In regard to the peace, I share the same hopes. For this occasion, I would like to welcome Tobirama to our clan, and let him know that now being one of our own, he can always rely on our protection. I am sure my son will do his best to fulfil this promise. I wish the both of you that the other becomes the reason for your eagerness to return home at the end of a long day. You deserve to know happiness together.” With a soft smile, she lifted her dish higher, everyone following, and Tobirama took hold of his own again, this time taking a bigger sip, trying to hide how affected he was by her words.

After that, the room seemed a bit brighter, despite the sun having already set and the continued silence that surrounded them. Tobirama took a couple more bites, then set his chopsticks down neatly, leaning slightly backwards, yet keeping his eyes to the table in front of him. He didn’t want to risk ruining the illusion of a peaceful meal if what he found on their families’ faces was something negative. From the corner of his eye, he saw Madara setting down the chopsticks he hadn’t used in a while, and then standing up on his feet,

“Thank you all for being by our side as we were bound in marriage. But now, I’d have to ask to be excused as it has been a tiring day. You’re welcome to stay and enjoy the food for as long as you’d like in my absence.” The Uchiha bowed his head in acknowledgement at their families, and turned to leave, when Tobirama lifted himself to his feet,

“I thank you for being with us, as well. But I find myself exhausted from the ceremony as well as from the traveling here, so I too ask to be excused. I hope you enjoy the rest of the meal.” He inclined his head forward, then turned to follow Madara and was surprised to find the other waiting for him. As he reached his now-husband, Madara resumed his walking and they left the main house together, exiting into the cold winter night.

Tobirama let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, a small cloud of steam forming in front of his face, and followed Madara along the narrow streets between the houses. They seemed to walk quite far from the centre of the compound, reaching the very outskirts, when Madara stopped before a house that looked the same as all the other ones in the area.

“Did you remember the way here from the main house?” Madara’s voice was low, yet held no note of aggressiveness or displeasure of any kind; its simple inquisitiveness made it sound surprisingly pleasant, or at least more so than Tobirama had ever heard it before.

“No, sorry, I didn’t pay much attention, simply followed you.” He was glad to hear his own voice come out steadily, despite his worry about disappointing, and so infuriating the other.

“That’s alright. I’ll show you around the compound tomorrow. Let’s get inside, it’s cold out here.” Without waiting for a response, Madara pushed the front door open and entered the house.

Tobirama took a moment to comprehend the, apparently, kindness the older was showing him, then crossed the threshold and pulled the door closed behind himself, leaving the chilling air outside. In the end of the corridor, one of the doors was left open, light streaming through, and he made his way over to it, finding Madara inside as he shuffled out of his haori, letting it fall on the bed.

“Can I make use of the bathroom first? I wasn’t making excuses when I said I was tired earlier.” Madara turned to face him, untying the belt holding his hakama up, and Tobirama quickly moved his gaze over to the calligraphy scroll on one of the walls.

“Of course, go ahead.”

“The crates with your things are in the main room, but if you don’t feel like dealing with them right now, there’s a spare yukata in the closet.” There was more shuffling of cloth as Madara took off his kimono and went to the adjoined bathroom, closing the door softly after himself.

Left alone, Tobirama turned towards the room again to find that Madara had taken his used clothes to a wooden box in one of the corners, apparently for the dirty laundry. Deciding that busying himself would keep his mind as blissfully quiet as it had been so far, Tobirama pulled open the closet, taking out the spare soft blue yukata and laying it down on the bed, as he started removing his formal attire. Discarding his used clothes in the box with Madara’s, he put the yukata on, tying it securely around his waist, then turned to look around the rest of the room.

Below the window, there was a small table with a calligraphy set and a few scrolls on top of it. Tobirama placed his leather bag beside them, checking up on the seal to find it still thankfully intact. Along the wall with the door, a tall three-winged closet was placed, the wooden box for discarded clothes in the corner next to it. At the other wall stood the door to the bathroom and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that was left empty halfway. The double bed was pushed up to the fourth wall, the calligraphy scroll he had looked at earlier hanging above it. It was a spacious room, but that was to be expected, given that it was to be shared between the two of them. 

Walking over to the bookcase, he studied the titles, finding many on history and mythology. He would have never thought that Madara would be interested in such subjects, but in some way he couldn’t quite describe, it seemed to fit the Uchiha. He made to reach for one of the books, but then the door to the bathroom opened and Madara walked back into the room, noticing where Tobirama’s attention was,

“Ah, you could read them, if you’d like. After all, in marriage what’s mine is also yours.”

Freezing in place, Tobirama took in a sharp breath. The marriage. Madara would likely want to consummate it. A shiver of dread went up his spine, his lungs refusing to take in the oxygen properly, and he needed to get out of the room, away from the Uchiha. The bathroom seemed unsuspicious enough, and he quickly made for it, managing out a shaky

“Thank you, perhaps another time.”

He shut the door behind himself more audibly than he’d meant to, then leaned against the wood, taking his weight off his shaking legs. The ceremony was one thing, but this? No one had prepared him for something of this sort, he had no idea how to proceed, nor what was expected of him. He had to fulfil his role and satisfy the Uchiha, but not knowing what to do, he’d be left completely in the hands of the other to do as he pleased, most certainly being already experienced, unlike Tobirama. From what he’d heard from Hashirama, his brother never knowing when to shut up and keep things to himself, it was supposed to be a pleasant experience, yet Tobirama found himself doubting that now. He couldn’t imagine a situation where he was to be completely bare and defenceless, entirely at the mercy and in the hands of Madara, to be pleasant. He couldn’t believe he’d failed to consider this earlier, when he’d first learned of the predicament. He should have prepared himself for this, should have at least read something to know even the basics, yet his brain had completely forgotten about this part.

But it had to be done. He had to play his role, whatever that may require him to be. The peace had to be kept, and he would do his best to make sure it remained so.

Pushing his weight off the door and back onto his still-shaking legs, Tobirama went over to the sink, turning the water on, and splashed some onto his face, trying to get himself to calm down. It helped ease the tightness in his lungs, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the blood retreat from his ears, giving him his hearing back; he hadn’t even realised he couldn’t hear anything, as lost in his head as he was.

He turned the water off, took a few more steadying breaths, then walked back into the bedroom, stopping as he faced the bed with Madara already in it, sitting leaned against the headboard under the covers. Looking down at the floor in shame, Tobirama took hold of his yukata and began pulling it off his shoulders, until Madara’s surprised exclamation halted him,

“What are you doing?!”

“I figured you’d want to consummate our binding.”

“What?!” Madara sounded almost scandalized, and Tobirama lifted his eyes, narrowed in confusion, to the other’s mouth, finding it open in surprise. “No, that’s not necessary. It’s clear that you’re doing this only out of obligation, and I can’t do it like this. I won’t lay a hand on you unless you were to come to me out of your own volition, and if that never happens, then it’s fine too. I know you didn’t want any of this, the wedding and all, neither did I, so the only thing I can try to do, is to make the situation easier for both of us. So, really, consummation of any kind is unnecessary.”

Baffled, Tobirama rolled over Madara’s words in his head a few times, before he was reminded of what Izuna had told him the night before as he had given him the gift. Realising that he’d never mentioned it to Madara, he cleared his throat,

“Thank you for the katana. It was a truly thoughtful gift, and expertly crafted, at that. I have something for you in turn.” Adjusting his yukata back in place, he went over to the table, unsealing his leather bag, pulling out the scroll, then brought it over to Madara, handing it to him.

Madara looked at it curiously, but took it, turning it around in his hands a few times to study it from all sides. Then, he opened it, revealing descriptions of chakra distribution, hand signs and changes in chakra form. He then looked up at Tobirama again, as if to ask for clarification, and the younger one explained,

“It’s a description of a protective barrier jutsu I invented a few years ago. It was originally a water type technique, but since you have a fire nature, I modified it so that you can use it freely. You gave me the means to defend myself if needed, so I thought it was only suitable if I gave you the means to protect those dear to you.”

“Thank you. Truly.” Madara’s voice was barely above a whisper, and if it wasn’t for the silence in the room, Tobirama would have missed it. “It is indeed a very considerate gift.”

The younger one was so relieved that his gift had been well-received, and he let out the shaky breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, too scared of what the other would think, too overwhelmed by thoughts of consummation. Madara rolled the scroll back up carefully, then stood and went over to the bookshelf, settling it down neatly next to the other ones. Tobirama tried to school his features back to neutrality and hoped he had succeeded as Madara turned back to him with a soft smile,

“I’d very much like for you to explain this technique to me in detail tomorrow.”

The semblance of control he had achieved quickly left Tobirama, as shock took over,

“You would truly want that?”

“Well, I’m curious to see how exactly you came up with this in the first place.”

Tobirama was too stunned to answer vocally, so instead he simply nodded, receiving a nod from Madara in return, who then walked back over to the bed and laid down, pulling the covers over himself,

“Could you please turn off the lights? We should both probably get some sleep.”

Quickly doing as he was told, Tobirama then went back over to the empty side of the bed, but hesitated and remained standing there, staring at the space next to Madara, unsure of himself.

“I could just as well get a futon and go sleep in one of the other rooms, if it would be better this way for you.” Madara stated quietly, making no move to turn to look at him.

“No!” The sharpness of the syllable was followed by a surprised silence on both their parts, until Tobirama continued in a quieter tone, “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”

To illustrate his point, he lifted the covers and laid down on the very edge of the bed, as far away from Madara as he could. They laid in the quiet dark, until Madara’s sigh cut through,

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“What for?” Tobirama kept his voice as quiet as the other’s, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace between them.

“For us being forced to marry.”

That was certainly not what he had expected to hear, but could not leave it unanswered,

“It’s the elders who insisted, I am not blaming you.”

“But I didn’t protest at all, only lowered my head before them, and look where that defiance got us.”

“Trying to go against the elders would have only worsened the situation.” Tobirama thought of the many times the Senju elders had belittled him, not even listening to the explanations of his ideas, waving him off as an annoyance and a mere tool to be sent out for slaughter, or a ware to be sold off to satisfy their own desires.

“We cannot let them have full control over our lives like this.” Madara’s voice bore a note of pure anger, and Tobirama felt a shiver run up his spine. Despite knowing that this anger had not been directed at him, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the Uchiha on the battlefield. He knew he wasn’t strong enough to defend himself against Madara, should the need ever arise, and it surely would if he were to infuriate him. He tried to move even farther away on the bed, but if he did, he would be falling off, so he forced himself to remain where he was instead, going fully still, and tried his best to make his voice come out steadily,

“Once you become the clan head, you could have more say in what is done. For now, let us get some rest; tomorrow would probably be as tiring as today.”

Madara let out a low hum in acknowledgement, then fell silent, leaving Tobirama to stare in the dark and listen to Madara’s breathing, waiting for it to even out as a sign for his having fallen asleep, so he would know he was safe to sleep too.

But instead, the steady breaths and the warmth next to him lulled him off soon, making him fail to notice that Madara was still lying wide awake on the other side of their bed.


	5. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama is nothing if not an older brother, and it shows. 
> 
> Tobirama and Madara bond over food of all things, even if the food itself has little to do with it.

Waking up at the increasing lack of warmth, Tobirama opened his eyes slowly and took stock of his surroundings. Unconsciously, he’d moved towards the middle of the bed in his sleep. Which was probably also the reason why the other side was empty, Madara nowhere in sight. It seemed that the Uchiha had opted for ignoring him, which was perhaps for the best, since like this the possibility of accidentally infuriating him would be much lower.

Tobirama inhaled deeply, then threw the covers off and made his way over to the bathroom. As he washed his face, his eyes went up to the mirror and he was surprised to see himself looking well-rested despite all his worrying. But, thinking it over, he actually felt well-rested physically, too. It must be because of the tiring journey to the Uchiha compound and the emotional exhaustion of the previous day. It clearly could have nothing to do with having Madara’s warm body lying next to him during the night; that was part of the reason why he’d been so worried in the first place, after all.

He walked back to the bedroom and over to his leather bag, taking out the spare clothes he was thankful to have put in just in case. His usual dark blue pants, the black t-shirt, and the dark blue kimono shirt on top lacked any clan symbols; he didn’t want to attract the animosity of the Uchiha, were he to have the Senju symbol on, neither could he bring himself to wear the uchiwa, and it could possibly bring about an even worse reaction.

Meaning to go and bid farewell to his family before they departed back to Senju lands, he headed to the front door. Suddenly, he was startled to find Madara sitting at the low table in the main room, dressed in a long high-collared dark purple kimono shirt, tied with a wide black sash over simple black pants, reading a scroll. Seemingly noticing him, the Uchiha turned to him,

“Did you need something?”

Keeping his eyes firmly on the hand Madara was leaning his chin on, Tobirama tried to make his tone come out just as neutral as the other’s had,

“I was simply going to see my family off.”

The older one hummed in acknowledgement, and then it hit Tobirama that he had no idea how to get to the house where his family was staying. He cleared his throat and asked quietly,

“Could you tell me how to get to them?”

“Ah.” Madara got up so suddenly that Tobirama tensed in anticipation of an attack, but the other simply continued in the same pleasantly low tone, “It’s best if I showed you, instead.”

With that, he headed to the front door, passing Tobirama on his way, who was still too stunned to move, not having expected the other to offer any sort of help, even more in such a calm manner.

“Coming?”

The simple word was enough to bring him out of his stupor, however, and he followed the other out of the house, closing the door behind himself softly and falling in step with his husband (and that thought was a very startling one in itself, as he still hadn’t had the time to get used to it).

They didn’t go towards the centre of the compound, as Tobirama thought they would. Instead, Madara led him along the outer streets, and they arrived sooner than he’d expected. It would be good to take Madara up on that offer to show him around the Uchiha lands; if the offer itself was still standing, that is.

Tobirama walked over to the front door of the house where his family had spent the night, but then realized Madara was no longer by his side, so he turned to him expectantly. The Uchiha had crossed his arms in front of his chest and had let his weight fall mostly on his right leg, indicating a relaxed stance,

“Go on inside. I figured you’d want some time with them, so I’ll wait out here.”

Blood rushed to Tobirama’s face and he couldn’t tell whether it was because of embarrassment or irritation,

“You don’t have to waste your time waiting for me.”

“I have the time to spare. In fact, you’re the one wasting time now, they’ll be leaving soon.”

It was a fair point and, puzzled over the other’s steady voice, betraying no emotion and simultaneously intriguing the younger as he wanted to know what that neutrality hid, Tobirama turned back towards the house and pushed the door open.

Hashirama was the first to greet him, poking his head out of one of the doors and, upon seeing him, rushed over to wrap his arms tightly around him,

“Tobi! What’s with the frown? You haven’t had a fight with Madara already, have you?”

“No, and I’d like to avoid that.” Tobirama tried to get his brother to let him go or at least loosen his hold on him, but Hashirama did the exact opposite, squeezing him tighter,

“Good, I know he’d like that too, and I really want you two to be happy.”

“How would you know what he’d like?” the younger breathed out, then grabbed hold of Hashirama’s arms, finally pushing him away, but his brother insistently kept his hands on his shoulders, holding him near,

“Well, we spoke after the last meeting when the demand was made. I had to make sure he’d take care of you, after all.” Hashirama’s smile curved into what Tobirama had seen very rarely during his life, the one that promised the recipient a personal demonstration of Hashirama’s full power, and Tobirama pitied all who got to see that exact expression. Then, as if it had been only a fragment of Tobirama’s imagination, the older’s usual grin was back at full force, “And just as I had expected, he assured me I had nothing to worry about.”

“Right.” No one in their right mind would go against their word to Hashirama, yet Madara had faced him on the battlefield many times and had held his own every single one of those times, so Tobirama wouldn’t put it beneath him. “And what else did you two talk about?”

“Ah.” Hashirama’s grin fell into a pout, and Tobirama would have rolled his eyes at that if he weren’t so invested in hearing the response, “I promised not to tell you, sorry.”

“What’s so important that you can’t tell me?” That wasn’t good, what if the Uchiha had manipulated his brother into telling him something he wasn’t supposed to, and Tobirama finding out would ruin whatever plan Madara had?

“It’s nothing bad, or secret, or related to our clan, don’t go attacking.” Hashirama proved once again how well he could read his brother, and Tobirama would have laughed if he still hadn’t been worried. “He only wanted to know some things about you, and no, your secrets are safe, don’t shout at me, please.”

“What sort of things about me, then, if not secrets?” Tobirama had taken hold of Hashirama’s arms, keeping him firmly in place lest he decide to run, as he sometimes did when he tried to keep something from him; not that it ever worked, but that was beside the point.

“Nothing bad, just what you’re like, what you enjoy doing- I really shouldn’t be telling you this, I promised not to!” The pout was back, and Tobirama let go of his arms, crossing his own in front of his chest.

“Why would he ask you that?” he was only thinking aloud, but Hashirama took it as a question directed at him, and the teasing tone that always annoyed Tobirama swept back into his brother’s voice,

“Aw, Tobi, why else? It seems you’ve caught his eye!”

Tobirama flushed, definitely only because Hashirama always succeeded in irritating him with his stupid teasing, and narrowed his eyes at his brother,

“Don’t be ridiculous, anija. We know nothing about each other, and he barely tolerates me, if even that. There’s no reason why, as you say, I would have caught his eye.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one, otouto, I’m sure you’ll figure it all out soon enough.” Hashirama’s smile widened and Tobirama really would have liked to be spared from his brother’s teasing.

“There’s nothing to figure out, stop with the nonsense.”

“There might be nothing now, but who knows what will happen over time.” A dreamy expression took the place of the teasing grin, and Tobirama let out an exasperated sigh.

It was then that their parents joined them in the main room, and Tobirama was secretly thankful they had not been present for Hashirama’s stupid remarks.

“Is all well?” Butsuma asked, using the same voice he did when he was planning for a battle. Strangely, Tobirama felt his irritation at Hashirama dissipate, replaced by a sharp concentration, and he nodded,

“Yes, father.”

“Good. Be careful, and if something happens, send word immediately.”

The words were perhaps meant to be reassuring, but they reminded Tobirama of the reason behind this marriage, of his role in keeping the peace, and some of the worry he had had the previous day returned. Nodding again, he kept his voice even,

“Of course, father.”

Butsuma nodded in answer, and then Tobirama found himself enveloped in his mother’s arms,

“It’ll be okay, my boy. You’ll be safe, they promised. Do not worry so, try to get to know them first. I trust you would be well here. Send us letters regularly, don’t make me miss you more than I will.”

He returned her embrace, just as tightly, and buried his face in her white locks, the same as his own,

“I’ll write as often as I can, mother. You shouldn’t worry, too, you said it yourself, I will be fine.” He had yet to begin believing in that, but for his mother’s sake he had to at least pretend to do so.

She let out a shaky laugh, then pulled back, caressing his cheek. He leaned into it, smiling back at her, and tried not to think about how he, too, would miss her now that he’d be away.

“We should go. We’ve been away from the clan long enough.” His father’s voice brought him back to the present and he reluctantly pulled away from his mother, standing back next to Hashirama.

As they walked out of the house, Tobirama found Madara in that same place he’d left him, but his stance had much more rigidness to it than before. He looked around, and quickly noticed the reason: the ten Senju escorts were already waiting, gathered together a few metres from the Uchiha, eyeing him suspiciously. He knew he should probably do something to prevent a fight from happening, as it seemed like that was a very possible outcome, but before he could decide on how to act, Hashirama was already next to Madara, grinning brightly,

“Have you come to see us off, Madara? Oh, or are you here because of Tobi?” The damned teasing smile was back on his brother’s face, and Tobirama really wanted no part in this. This was Madara’s problem now, and he would not intervene.

“Have you not been taught manners, Hashirama? Of course I’m here to see you off!” The irritation was prominent in the Uchiha’s voice as a red flush covered his face, possibly as a result from his anger at Hashirama’s remarks, and Tobirama held back his laughter. Then went pale immediately, as realisation hit him. Madara was clearly angry and close enough to attack, yet his first reaction was to laugh, instead of tense up in terror? How had that come to be? He shouldn’t let his guard down like this, a moment’s distraction could cost him dearly. He collected his bearings, then turned his attention back to the two heirs. Hashirama still had that infuriating smile plastered on his face, while Madara seemed to be seething silently, but at least he was making no move to attack.

“Stop behaving like children, it doesn’t suit either of you as future clan heads.” Butsuma’s voice cut through the silence, and both heirs straightened up a bit, previous spat all but forgotten. “If you’re here to see us off, Uchiha, then let’s go, we’ve stayed long enough.”

“Follow me, then, Senju-sama.” Tobirama was both amazed and unnerved by how quickly Madara had managed to take a hold of himself and slip that neutral mask back on, complete with the evenness of his voice.

Their walk to the compound gates was short and silent, and as they reached them, Tobirama had to force himself to stay behind, to stand still next to Madara as his family crossed over.

“Have a safe journey back.” He said then, surprising himself by how even his voice had managed to sound, even as he was so overwhelmed.

His father nodded curtly in acknowledgement, while his mother smiled softly at him, astonishing him as always by how well she could hold herself together when overcome by such strong emotions.

“Be safe as well, otouto.” Hashirama was smiling at him too, yet there was a sad edge to the curve of his lips, a distant imitation of his usual grin. “I’ll make sure to visit as soon as I can.” This time he addressed Madara, as if to ask permission, and Tobirama saw the Uchiha nod from the corner of his eye, granting the Senju heir’s wordless request.

Then, his family turned towards the forest and made on their way, leaving him to stare at their retreating figures until they disappeared between the trees. They stood there for a few more breaths, until Madara broke the silence,

“I suggest we go get some breakfast. Neither of us ate much last night.”

Tobirama turned to him then, keeping his eyes carefully on the Uchiha’s mouth, to find that same neutral expression facing him. He hesitated, but he did feel hungry, and starving himself would do him more bad than good, so he replied,

“That would be much appreciated.”

Madara’s lips tightened slightly, but before the younger could worry about having enraged the other, he simply nodded and turned towards the compound,

“Follow me, then.”

They took the same street as they had to get here from their house, and Tobirama busied himself with trying to remember as well as he could what there was along the way and where exactly it was that they passed through. This way, he’d at least be familiar with how to get out of the compound from their house without the need of an escort.

Soon, they stopped in front of a small stall with baked goods, where an old woman greeted them with a smile,

“Good morning, Madara-kun. And who is your companion?”

“Good morning, Hiriko-san. This would be my husband, Tobirama.”

Hearing himself being referred to in such a way, and by no other than Madara, unsettled Tobirama. It was one thing to logically know that this was his role now, but completely another hearing it out loud, as if voicing it meant making it true in some way that simply knowing it just couldn’t.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tobirama-kun. I believe we would be seeing quite a bit of each other, knowing what a regular client Madara-kun here is.”

Ignoring the strange sound Madara made next to him, Tobirama smiled at the old woman, falling back on his manners,

“The pleasure is all mine, Hiriko-san. And him coming back so frequently could only mean that you’re a master of your craft.”

“Oh, quite the charmer, aren’t you?” The woman chuckled, making him blush, then turned back towards the Uchiha, “Would it be the usual, then?”

“Ah, yes, thank you.” Madara sounded slightly out of breath, which was odd considering they had not exhausted themselves in any way by their walk here, so Tobirama turned to look at him, finding him already facing him, “What would you like to get?”

“Uhm.” Tobirama hadn’t even paid any attention to the baked goods. Turning to them now to inspect them quickly, he couldn’t find something familiar, which was no surprise as he usually wouldn’t seek out baked goods or sweets himself, so he turned back to Madara, trying his best to show indifference, “I’ll have the same.”

Madara’s mouth twitched slightly, but he nodded, looking back over to the woman,

“Hiriko-san, please double the order.”

The baker chuckled lightly, but complied, soon handing a white box over to Madara, smiling at him,

“Enjoy the food, Madara-kun, and better take care of that pretty boy you’ve managed to snatch up for yourself.”

Madara sputtered something unintelligible while Tobirama flushed deeply, not used at all to being called that in any way that was not meant to belittle or insult him. The Uchiha had already turned to go, but Tobirama had been taught better, so he cleared his throat and looked back at the woman,

“Thank you, Hiriko-san, have a pleasant day.”

She simply smiled at him, somewhat knowingly although Tobirama hadn’t the faintest idea as to why, and he turned to follow Madara, who was already a few steps ahead on the way.

They walked back to the house in silence, and, once inside, went straight for the kitchen. Madara deposited of the box on the countertop, then spoke, without turning to face him,

“Would you like some tea?”

It had been an unexpected question, but Tobirama quickly collected himself, nodding, even though the other couldn’t see him,

“Yes, thank you.”

“Go sit down, then, I’ll be right there in a bit.”

Tobirama complied, settling down by the table, and turned to observe as Madara busied himself around the kitchen. He put the teapot on the stove, readying some herbs to infuse in it later, then got a wide flat dish and moved the things they got from the bakery from the box onto it. There’s a certain fluidity to his movements, and Tobirama found himself admiring it, thinking how sure of himself the older one must surely be, to be so graceful even with such simple tasks.

As Madara settled the dish down on the table, the younger turned his attention to the small buns on it, wondering what they might be, as he was sure he hadn’t seen them before. Or perhaps he had, but in a variation? Hashirama would know; out of the two of them, it was him who enjoyed sweet things.

His musings were interrupted as Madara came back with the teapot and two cups, settling them down, and then sat down on the opposite side of the table, letting out a quiet sigh. Still studying the buns, Tobirama saw from the corner of his eye Madara reach towards him, and flinched away quickly by instinct, hitting his knee against the table. The Uchiha withdrew his hand immediately, as if burned, then let it fall in his lap with a sigh,

“I have no intention of causing you any harm.”

Tobirama didn’t respond, body still rigid with tension and ready to fight back if needed.

“You must still see me only as your enemy, out to slaughter you at the first chance that presents itself, but you must know that I would never intentionally hurt you. In fact, I should be thanking you. I have seen you pull your hand from a fatal blow to Izuna many times while we were in battle, consciously choosing to spare his life, the life of your enemy, and during a war at that. I don’t know what stopped you, but I am thankful you did not strike.”

“There’s nothing you should be thanking me for.” Tobirama’s voice was barely above a whisper, but part of the tension had left him, letting his breathing calm down again. “I know what’s it like to have only one brother left, and I would not wish losing their only living sibling to anyone, not even an enemy. I could not do that to you. It would have also prevented my brother from having his dream of peace, since whenever he speaks of it, he always names you right beside him, achieving it with him, and I could not take that away from him.”

There was silence for a while. Tobirama thought how easy it had been to tell Madara all of this, how he felt somewhat lighter now, the tension gone completely, knowing that the other had seen him spare his younger brother and having acknowledged it, how, maybe, hearing that Hashirama still wanted Madara by his side as they prospered, the Uchiha would wish for it, too. Then, Madara spoke again, his tone softer than Tobirama had heard it before,

“I would do anything to protect my family. Now that you’re a part of it, the same applies to you. I know that trusting me will take time, I myself don’t trust you entirely. But you must realise that I will not let any harm come to you, much less inflict it upon you myself, not if I can help it.”

The silence was back as Tobirama tried to find a hidden meaning in the words. But then he realised that this was exactly what Madara had meant, them as of yet unable to trust each other, and he made a decision,

“I’ll try to learn how to trust you. And I hope you could do the same, with time.”

“With time.” Madara nodded, then reached out again, slowly, and took the teapot, pouring them tea. This time, Tobirama didn’t flinch away, instead settling back into a more comfortable position.

He reached for a bun, bit into it and his mouth was filled with an incredibly sweet flavour. He took a sip of the tea then, relieved to find it slightly bitter as usual, yet a bit milder than what he was used to, then finished his small bun with another bite.

“I would have never guessed you enjoyed sweets.” He said, eyeing the dish with the rest of the buns.

“Do you dislike them? Would you like something else instead?” There was a note of something that sounded strangely like nervousness in Madara’s voice, and Tobirama was taken aback for a second, but then, thinking better off it, shook his head,

“No, no, they’re fine. I was simply surprised.”

“Ah. Well, yes, I do enjoy sweets, and the manju happen to be my favourite. Izuna likes to tease me for it, but he’s a hypocrite, as he himself would steal mine more often than not.”

Tobirama snorted at that, being reminded of himself and Hashirama, reaching for another bun and taking a bite, then swallowed and said,

“I had never tried these before. But I can understand why they would be appealing. I myself prefer blander tastes, but wouldn’t turn this away, if it were offered.”

Madara let out a pleased hum, taking another bun for himself, while Tobirama finished his own, then reached for his tea again.

They finished breakfast in silence after that, but the tension that had been present before had disappeared, leaving a sense of peace in its stead.


	6. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madara takes Tobirama on a tour of the Uchiha compound. 
> 
> (I hope you could get an image through the descriptions. You're always welcome to ask for clarifications.)
> 
> (Also, an enormous thank you for all the comments and the kudos, you have no idea how immeasurably happy they've made me! <3)

With the buns and the tea finished, Tobirama found himself getting restless by the prolonged sitting in silence with Madara. His eyes settled onto the empty dish and an excuse to move came to mind,

“I’ll take care of the dishes. It’s only fair, as you served earlier.”

“Sure.” That neutrality in Madara’s voice was surely starting to irritate him, but he couldn’t risk doing anything about it, so he took hold of the dish and the two cups, and stood. He deposited the porcelain in the sink, then went back to take the teapot and Madara spoke again, “I have to finish that scroll I was reading earlier, but after we can go back out so I can show you around the compound. That is, if you don’t have something else you had planned on doing?”

“No, I have to learn my way around, so I’d be thankful if you could.”

“Very well.” With a nod, Madara stood and went out in the main room.

Taking hold of the teapot, Tobirama walked back to the sink and set to his task automatically, his mind free to wander. So far, Madara had treated him better than he had expected. Then again, he had thought of the worst, so maybe he shouldn’t be that surprised at a more-or-less-neutral behaviour. Yet, that neutrality seemed more forced with each interaction and it irked Tobirama that he was failing at figuring out what hid behind it. A few hours ago, he would have been certain it was fury that Madara tried to control so diligently. But now, knowing that the other had gone so far as to thank him for sparing Izuna and to insist that he’d never hurt Tobirama, fury seemed to be quite unlikely. And that left him completely lost. Even as he used his sensor abilities, he still had trouble naming all the emotions that one person felt. Without activating his sensoring, he was well-versed in interpreting a person’s fighting style, and was rather good at figuring out schemes and plots. But when it came to feelings, Hashirama had always bested him, his older brother’s empathy giving him a natural capability in reading people, and thus could often see what hid behind such masks. Tobirama wished he possessed a part of that ability, or at least that he could ask Hashirama what he thought of it. Unfortunately, that was no longer a possibility, his anija was most likely already back home, while Tobirama was confined to the Uchiha lands and would have to make do on his own, as well as he could.

“If you’re done here, we can go.” Madara’s voice coming from the door startled him, and he almost dropped the tea cup he was washing, but managed to hold on to it, shinobi instincts kicking in just in time. He finished off his task and turned to his husband, irritated both at himself for getting too distracted to notice the other’s presence and at the uneasiness that title brought with itself,

“Lead the way.”

Madara’s lips twitched again, and Tobirama has to take a deep breath because not knowing had always irritated him to no end, and he was dying to go figuratively pocking and prodding. But that could bring about a catastrophe, so he had to get a grip on himself and go on keeping the neutral rapport they’d managed to build. Madara seemed to hesitate briefly for some reason, but luckily just nodded and turned to walk out before Tobirama could lose his calm.

As they exited the house, Madara turned to the right and Tobirama hurried his pace slightly until he fell in step with the older one, who spared him a look, which he couldn’t interpret as he meticulously avoided to look him in the eye, then started explaining as they walked,

“If we were to take this street to the right, we’d reach the shrine. To the left, we’d pass by the smaller gardens and along the most of the craftsmen’s workshops. We’d also reach the centre of the compound from the side with the offices containing all documents on and keeping control of the merchants, craftsmen and artisans, as well as of their wares. If you go behind one of the workshops, you’d find yourself in one of the small alleys that go through the area with the craftsmen’s houses, but I’d advise you to avoid that for now, as it’s relatively easy to get lost there.”

Madara fell silent, giving him some time to get sorted through the information in his head, and as they reached one of the secondary gates of the compound, the Uchiha continued,

“We’re at the Western gate now. It’s used as the main supply route and the eight bigger buildings on both sides are the main storehouses. The wider street that goes east from here to the centre is where the merchants keep shop. Most of the fresh produce and other groceries, you can buy from here. Behind the shops are, of course, the merchants’ and the farmers’ houses. The alleyways here are even narrower, but you could learn to navigate them with time.”

The main street itself was already bustling with people and Tobirama moved slightly closer to Madara. It would do him no good to get lost in the midst of the crowd, and even if he could find the other easily with his sensoring, he had no desire to be alone with so many Uchiha surrounding him. Madara didn’t protest nor move away, so the younger kept the proximity as they continued forward along the outer street, while Madara spoke,

“The two identical buildings on the right are the two smaller dojo, and behind them are the smaller training grounds. They’re mostly favoured by children but are open to anyone. Part of the duties of the guards in the watchtower on this side of the compound is to take care of all the things the children set on fire. Accidentally, of course, as you know.” A note of amusement slipped into Madara’s voice at the last part and Tobirama couldn’t help but smile. Children, particularly shinobi ones, had a tendency to wreck havoc on everything that was unlucky enough to cross their path, and they always managed to pass it off as an accident to whomever reprimanded them for it, and somehow still get away with it. Learning that Uchiha children were no different should not have surprised him in any way, yet there he was. What he had known about the Uchiha clan had turned out to be either untrue or strongly distorted, and he realised he had willingly let himself be lied to and manipulated into thinking of the Uchiha as little else than monsters for the slaughter. Suddenly overcome with disgust at himself and at all the wrong convictions he’d been taught to believe, he readily made up his mind to try and find out what the Uchiha were truly like, to get to know the truth for himself and not live in blind hate towards them simply because he’d been taught so for his entire life.

Having come to a decision, he loosened his jaw that he’d grit earlier, and took a calming breath. Then, it dawned on him that Madara had stopped talking, instead looking at him, and as the older one saw the realisation come to him, he asked,

“Are you unwell? Should we go back home?”

“No, I’m fine, I was simply thinking. Please, continue.” His voice had somehow managed to stay clear of his emotions, and Madara studied him for a moment more, then began describing their surroundings again,

“To the right is the Southern gate. It’s the least used one, but that does not make it less guarded. From here, if you take the wide street to the centre, you’d reach the main house to the left, two buildings before the central square, and the bookstore with the printing house on the right. Before them, as you walk along the street, on your right you’d find the cloth dryers’ and merchants’ district. Again, it’s littered by narrow alleyways, but during festivals it’s one of the most beautiful parts of the compound, as it’s filled with colourful cloths hanging from any place imaginable. Unfortunately, it’s a busy area and simply enjoying yourself in silence surrounded by colours is often impossible.”

The resigned sigh Madara let out then revealed he was speaking from experience, and Tobirama found himself smiling at the image of the other frowning in annoyance as crowds passed by him, their noisy exclamations about the colours souring the Uchiha’s mood further. He understood that feeling all too well, himself preferring to be left alone to observe the beauty of his surroundings in silence, and not be pushed around by overexcited hoards. It was a nice thing to have in common, he figured, as this way they could enjoy the silence in company. Perhaps, once they had begun trusting each other more.

He focused back on Madara as the older one resumed his description,

“These here to the south are the medic wards. I’d appreciate it if you keep your unwilling visits to them at a minimum, as I dislike being there.” That remark stirred some emotion inside of Tobirama, but before he could identify it, Madara continued on, “Here we have the two large dojo with the bigger training grounds behind them. These ones are frequented mostly by adults, but it’s not rare to also see the occasional child here. If you take this street to our left towards the centre, you’d pass by one of the nicer bathhouses in the compound, and Izuna’s house right opposite of it. You don’t want to know why he chose to live there, trust me, and it’s definitely not because of the main gardens on the other side of his house, even if he continues to insist on that.”

Tobirama chose to believe Madara and not question him further on Izuna’s choices. The relationship between the two Uchiha brothers had begun to intrigue him as he wanted to know how similar it was to his own relationship with Hashirama. And now, with the remarks Madara made from time to time about Izuna, he thought that observing them interact with each other might even turn out to be amusing. Considering that the younger Uchiha did not immediately try to jump at his throat or spent the whole time insulting him, of course.

As they continued onwards, Tobirama caught sight of leafless magnolia trees and he could make a guess as to where they had arrived,

“We’re at the main gates, aren’t we?”

“Yes, the Eastern gates. They must have been the ones you arrived through, no?” Tobirama nodded in response and Madara hummed, “Makes sense, the Senju lands are in that direction after all. Now, if we go west from here, we’d reach the urban and military offices in the centre. On the north side of this street is the so-called food district, that houses not only many restaurants and tea houses, but also the living quarters of the people they belong to. Most alleys here are wider and easier to navigate than the others, but that’s understandable as they’re also much busier. Actually, now that we’re here and it’s around noon, would you like to get some lunch and finish the last part after, or would you prefer continuing and then coming back?”

Giving the question a moment’s thought, Tobirama realised that the walking had started to make him hungry. Besides, if there was more to see, and they were close to the food now, it made no sense to go on forward only to have to come back later.

“We could eat now and continue later, I think.”

“Hm. How would you feel about sushi, then?”

“I wouldn’t mind it. Lead the way.”

Madara nodded and turned to walk off, and Tobirama could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a small smile on the Uchiha’s face. Even seeing it for a short moment, he could tell that it softened the other’s usually sharp features, and Tobirama found himself wishing he could study the changes for a bit longer. Perhaps he could get a chance to do so some day, but for now he could simply follow Madara into a small alley along the main outer street, leading deep within the district in turn after sharp turn.

They stopped in front of a parlour and took a sit on the high bar stools. Tobirama looked around and noticed a list hanging on one of the walls, naming all the kinds of sushi that were being offered. He managed to go over it and choose right before an older man greeted them with a smile,

“What would you and your companion like today, Madara-sama?”

“A plate of mixed inarizushi for me, thank you, Taichi-san.” Madara turned to him as if to prompt him to speak up and Tobirama didn’t need a second invitation,

“I’d like some salmon nigiri, thank you.”

“Coming right away.” The man turned away to busy himself with preparing their food and Tobirama stared down at the wooden bar in front of him, not knowing what to say or do. After so much time spent with his mind occupied with following along Madara’s descriptions and matching them to what he saw as they passed by, now the sudden stillness made him uneasy. He usually had no problem with staying in silence, lost in thought, but now that his mind was focused on Madara, the quiet seemed more like a void ready to be filled with something rather than a calming absence of distractions.

Fortunately, he was saved from mulling over what he could do by their orders arriving, and he took hold of his chopsticks to busy himself, then ate a piece of his meal, finding it pleasantly well prepared. But the thoughts of Madara refused to leave his mind, and he remembered their shared breakfast in the morning, how they had discussed the food with ease, and perhaps that same ease could be reached again. He lowered his chopsticks and turned slightly towards the Uchiha,

“Out of all sushi, salmon nigiri happens to be my preferred. You could have some, if you’d like.”

Madara visibly hesitated, the hand around his own chopsticks tightening its hold slightly, but then he reached over and took a piece, dipping it in the soy sauce and eating it.

“It’s good, but personally I think it lacks a bit of flavour. Here, try these.” He pushed his own plate a bit closer to Tobirama and the younger one took the smallest piece he could find and, upon eating it, understood what the other meant with the nigiri having too bland a taste.

“Delicious, but a bit too strong for me.” He offered and Madara surprised him by letting out a small quiet laugh, then returning to his food. Tobirama blinked at him twice, then turned back to his own plate. He had made Madara laugh, and it had not been meant as an insult to him. Not only that, but his offer had managed to bring back that same ease from the morning, and Tobirama did not know what to think of the situation nor of Madara himself anymore. 


	7. vii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madara and Tobirama have an adventure in jutsu theory. 
> 
> (I literally made all of this up, please bear with me, I have no idea how any of it is actually supposed to work. Also, kudos to [Miray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miray) for the final part of the jutsu theory scene, this way it's much funnier than what I originally planned, so thank you ^^)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! It would be very nice to hear what you think about it. ^^

The calm ease between the two of them remained for the whole duration of their lunch. Tobirama wished it could stay with them for at least the rest of the day and was pleased when it continued to accompany them when they resumed their walk through the compound. As they found their way out of the small alleyways back on the outer main street, Madara began his explanations anew,

“The second watchtower was mostly stationed here so it could look over the river that passes by on the other side of the walls. As the Northern gates are here, the area is busy enough, so the guards are far from bored. This street here to the south leads back to the centre and to the administrative offices. As you walk along it, to your right is the artisans’ district, with both their workshops and houses. It’s smaller than the other districts, but it’s the most diverse, and therefore the most beautiful one, not just during festivals.”

“It’s interesting that you’ve divided the whole compound in different districts based on their inhabitants’ occupations. I assume you also have one for the shinobi, and another for the otherwise occupied civilians, no?”

Had he not been paying attention to Madara as he posed his question, Tobirama would have missed the minute rigidness of the other’s body. Despite it being gone just as quickly as it came, Tobirama regretted interrupting Madara. Had that question perhaps been too intrusive? Most likely the position of the shinobi’s quarters was kept secret, or at least was not freely discussed even within the clan, and now he, an outsider, no, an enemy, had had the audacity to ask directly about it? He had to learn how to stifle his curiosity, and fast, before it could cost him. He opened his mouth to apologise, but before he could say something, Madara spoke,

“We don’t have such districts. The shinobi and the civilians are free to choose where they want to live. The same goes for all the others: artisans, merchants, craftsmen, and so on, but they have chosen to live in such a way that in one area there is a group prevailing in numbers. The names of the districts are a result of the people who chose to inhabit them, not as a label of restriction. It’s far from uncommon to see merchants living in the craftsmen district, or farmers in the artisans’ one. The shinobi and the civilians are no different, it’s up to them where they live. It’s true that many of the shinobi have chosen to live along the walls, as it is easier to go in and out of the compound that way, and it offers better protection to all who live in the innards. But that does not mean that shinobi are only confined to the walls.” Madara’s tone bore no note of fury or irritation, remaining calm during the whole explanation. If Tobirama hadn’t been paying such apt attention to it, he would have missed how forced that calm seemed. He should not have opened his mouth.

“It was not my place to ask, forgive me. I am the last person you should be explaining your clan’s reasons to. I did not mean to intrude with my assumptions.”

Madara stopped walking then and turned towards him. In place of the fury Tobirama expected to see, there was only confusion on the older one’s face, and it puzzled him even more when Madara spoke again,

“Why are you apologizing? It’s a completely logical assumption to make. And you’re not intruding, there’s nothing secret about where people live. If there was, I wouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

“So, you’re not angry that I asked?”

“That you asked? No, of course not. Why would I be? Ask me whatever you want, you’re completely free to do that. As long as it’s not about clan secrets, that is.” Madara’s lips then turned up in what could only be a grin, and Tobirama had no idea how to react to the realization that the other had just made a joke. Before he could figure out whether he should laugh or ask Madara if he’d hit his head, the other continued, “I’m not angry, it just irked me a bit that you’d think we were restricting people based on what they do. It’s not very surprising, I suppose, they do seem somewhat divided. But that’s just a consequence of their own choices, not of an enforcement of a restriction.”

“I see. I’m sorry I made assumptions.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like they came out of nowhere. Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I suggest we go back home to get the scroll with that technique of yours so I can learn it.” Madara’s grin eased into a smile and it was enough to confirm that, yes, his features did soften when he smiled, as Tobirama had thought earlier. He didn’t look nearly as terrifying as he did usually, and perhaps knowing this would help abate Tobirama’s constant unease around the older one.

“No, I don’t think I have anything else to ask. Let’s get the scroll.” He hesitantly smiled in turn, and Madara’s grin was back on his face as they resumed walking once again.

It took them a lot less time to get back home than Tobirama had presumed, as it turned out their house was not that far from the Northern gates. He waited outside while Madara went into the house to retrieve the scroll, and then rejoined him shortly after,

“We could go to the smaller training grounds. They’re closer and should be mostly empty, since the children tend to take a long break after lunch.”

That smile was still on Madara’s face, and Tobirama felt his own lips upturn slightly as he nodded, and they made their way over to the fields.

Thankfully, the grounds were empty, and no one had stopped them on their way there to speak with them, despite all the looks pointed their way. They went farther from the street so accidental damage could be prevented, and Madara stopped a couple of metres away from him, facing him,

“Could you demonstrate the technique? As you perform it usually, with the water release. I’d like to get a better grasp on how it works.”

Tobirama nodded, and stirred his chakra, accumulating the needed amount of water, went through the seals slowly so Madara could distinguish them, then released the water a small distance away from them, erecting a steady wall. Madara hummed, then formed the hand seals in a quick continuity as if he’d used this exact combination hundreds of times before, only changing the Dragon seal for the water to the Tiger one for his own fire, then released a stream of fire and a similar wall stood near his own water one. The flames flickered incessantly, but the mass itself held its form, successfully creating a protective barrier mirroring Tobirama’s. He studied the fire barrier for a few moments, then turned back to Madara, his awe unveiled,

“Why would you even ask for any clarifications if you could clearly perform it so excellently by yourself?”

“I could only do it this fast because I used my Sharingan to copy the seals, the chakra infusion and transformation from you while I watched you perform the technique.”

A shiver of dread went up Tobirama’s spine as he stood staring at Madara’s small smile in shock. The other had used his doujutsu on him, and he had not even noticed, had not even felt it. He had let his guard down, had fallen into this obviously false sense of security, had been ready to try and trust Madara, and it had cost him. The Uchiha had definitely not wasted any time to cast a genjutsu on him, trapping him in some illusion with who knows what scheme in mind. He’d been foolish, and now he’d been tricked. He had to find a way to free himself, he had to get away. Swallowing down once to clear his stuck throat, he said shakily,

“You used the Sharingan on me?”

The smile that had been on Madara’s lips instantly fell, replaced by a frown,

“If you’re worried that I cast a genjutsu on you, don’t be. I only copied the technique, nothing more.”

It was most likely a lie, an effort to distract him, to fool him into thinking nothing was wrong, to let Madara continue his plotting unrestricted. Tobirama reached his senses towards his own chakra network, feeling for any disturbances that he knew would be there, were he under an illusion, but failed to find any. He repeated the exercise, then did it another time, but still came up empty. Nothing was disturbed, the chakra was only his own, flowing as it normally would. Perhaps Madara was telling the truth, then. Perhaps he had not done anything to Tobirama, and the younger was only overreacting. Then again, if the Uchiha had wanted to trap him in any way, why would he state the use of his doujutsu so freely, letting him know? It was illogical, and only further proof that the older one had been telling the truth. Tobirama took a few deep breaths, forcing his body to calm down again, then let out a sigh,

“I’m sorry I accused you. But I have been taught my entire life to fear your eyes, so it would be a while until that fear goes away, even trusting you.”

“I understand.” That forced neutrality Tobirama had begun resenting was back in the other’s voice, but at least there was no allegation nor fury, so he could let the final traces of rigidness dissipate from his muscles. “You must know, however, that I will not put you under an illusion with the intent to do you harm. Nor with any other intent. And I promise to forewarn you the next time I activate the Sharingan, even if it’s just to copy or memorize something.”

“Thank you.” A brief silence followed as Tobirama recomposed himself completely, then he spoke again in the hope of returning to their somewhat-camaraderie from earlier, “You don’t need any more assistance with the jutsu, do you?”

“No, I understood how it works.” Madara’s voice was still kept neutral, but there was a certain softness to it which led Tobirama to believe that maybe the other wanted that same ease back too. “But I’m still curious, how did you come up with it?”

Tobirama didn’t know whether he should be answering anything Madara asked him about his own techniques. He had been so quick to mistrust just a minute ago, readily believing that the Uchiha had attacked him unbeknownst to him, and part of his reasoning then still echoed around in his brain, telling him to get away, to defend himself, to not trust. But then Madara had reassured him, had even promised to let him know before he ever activated his doujutsu again. And if he wanted their cohabitation to be peaceful and possibly even friendly, he had to trust him. Since he’d arrived in the Uchiha compound, Madara had given him no reason to distrust him so far, and Tobirama had to extend the same courtesy, and learn how to place his confidence in the man who was essentially his husband. So he could at least start with satisfying his curiosity.

“There is this technique called Water Shield. It was one of the first ones I mastered as a child, and I could conjure different-sized shields too. But the issue I had with it was that I could only protect myself and the people in my direct vicinity by casting it. I figured I needed something that I could use at a distance, and so I created this one.”

“So, by enlarging and thickening the shield, and then sealing it in place with a thin layer of carefully controlled chakra, you came up with the barrier as we see it now?”

That question managed to take Tobirama aback. He’d expected that Madara would have lost interest immediately, would have only asked for an explanation to get rid of the tension between them, but the intelligently inquisitive question he had gotten instead had not even crossed his mind as an outcome. The way the inquiry itself was posed meant that Madara had some knowledge on chakra theory itself and would at least understand what Tobirama was telling him. And if the interest was genuine, then perhaps he could indulge slightly in the discussion. He hadn’t had someone to speak about it with in years, at least someone who would understand; Hashirama had been there, had listened, but his expressive face quickly revealed how lost he was in Tobirama’s explanations. With Madara, on the other hand, maybe things would be different. He could at least try and see.

“Fundamentally, yes. The reshaping and the controlling of the mass of water was the easy part, as they’re essential components of any technique. Doing it remotely was the issue, and I thought that using a seal might solve the problem.”

“But aren’t seals usually drawn separately? How did you manage to include it within the technique? Was it part of the chakra transformation process?” There was a note of barely controlled excitement in Madara’s voice and it was enough to convince Tobirama that the other genuinely cared about the topic and had not asked only as an escape option. That gave him the push he needed to find a small part of his confidence, and he answered eagerly,

“Yes, they’re mostly drawn separately and are implemented before or after casting another technique as a supplement. Then again, seals are nothing but symbols, arranged in such a way that they control the flow of chakra and the outcome upon its release. Keeping that in mind, I tried to see how I could replace the drawing of the seals in some way, to make it automatic, to include it within the technique itself, as you said. The first option I chose was to try and somehow form the seals upon release, but it didn’t work.”

“Then it made you realise you had to do it simultaneously during the whole process of the technique formation? From the beginning of the chakra gathering up until the very release, right? Because when drawing up chakra, it comes from different parts of your body, and while doing so, it draws a pattern. And that pattern could serve as the seal grid!” There was a wide grin plastered on Madara’s face as he came to the same conclusions that Tobirama himself had a few years back while inventing the technique, and finally feeling understood brought a mirrored grin to the younger’s own face,

“Exactly! And then the release of the technique could be used as the activation of the seal at the same time, because the amount of chakra needed is of the same quantity!”

At that, they started going back and forth, shooting up various hypotheses about how that technique, and then other ones could be enhanced if a seal was added to them, and whether the same seal could work for multiple techniques. Tobirama had not felt so free to talk about his interest with anyone in so long that he had forgotten what it was like. The fact that Madara not only understood him, but even answered in kind and added his own ideas to his, made the whole experience all the more exciting. So much so that he’d started gesturing with his hands as he spoke, something that he hadn’t done since he had been a child. He had gotten so passionate about the topic that he was about to suggest they try out one of their speculations, when Madara asked,

“What if we could apply that same method to the exploding tags? That way you could make use of their function even after you run out!”

“What? No! Are you an idiot? That’s not how it works!” Tobirama took a breath to start explaining why that idea was not only improbable but also extremely dangerous to the caster, and then suddenly remembered who exactly he was talking to and whom he’d just called an idiot. The silence that followed did not help at all with his growing anxiety and he pressed his lips tightly together, looking down at his feet and waiting for the other to lash out. What came, however, was a tired sigh, followed by Madara’s soft voice,

“Yes, you’re probably right, that would be a failure. And that barrier technique you gifted me with, you simply invented it, just like that?”

Hesitantly, Tobirama raised his eyes to the other’s mouth, finding a smile there that could only be described as fond, however startling that realisation was in the first place. So he let the breath he was holding out and answered, just as softly,

“Ah, it took some tinkering and a few failed attempts, it was not that simple.”

“And yet, you invented it. Impressive. Hashirama wasn’t exaggerating when he told me you were a genius.”

That remark made Tobirama flush, and this time he was sure it had nothing to do with his irritation at his brother for talking about his skills to other people without his knowledge or consent. When he spoke again, his voice came out much less steadily than he would have liked,

“He probably did exaggerate, he often does.”

“Not this time, apparently.”

Tobirama looked back down to the ground, not in uneasiness but to try and hide his embarrassment instead, and a calm silence fell over them. He turned the words over in his head a few times, trying to find an appropriate reaction on his part, but could not come up with anything. After a few moments, he decided that avoidance would be the best course of action, and changed the topic completely,

“If we’re done with jutsu for today, we should get back to the house. I have yet to sort out my belongings and they shouldn’t stay packed in the main room for too long.”

“I think we’re finished, yes. Let’s go.” Instead of the expected neutrality, Madara’s tone was one of amusement, and Tobirama decided that he would not be questioning it, as long as it let him continue avoiding those remarks and his own subsequent reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (An important note: Since university is starting again on Monday, the updates will be less regular than they've been so far. I'll try to upload a chapter every two weeks, but I can't give any promises as I have no idea how busy the projects will be keeping me this time around. I'll try, but we'll see how that turns out. This story will not be abandoned, however! It might take quite the long time, but I will finish it! So, no worries!)


	8. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back to the situating and organization of the compound, I realize that it's a bit difficult to imagine it only through the descriptions. It's supposed to have a circular form which is formed by the buildings, but the two training grounds tend to disrupt it, pulling at the walls to the south and enlarging the shape, making it slighly trapezoidal, but still with curved corners. Initially, the form was based on Antonio Filarete's designs of an ideal city ( [Sforzinda](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sforzinda) ), as it incorporates the easiest way to defend a city (which, at the time, was a citadel), and has the gates in all strategic locations (I've decided to give the Uchiha compound just four, since the compound in itself isn't that large, and only four entrances are much easier to regulate). Another thing I've taken from Filarete's plan, is the division of the districts. As explained, in the situation of the Uchiha compound it was rather incidental and more a consequence rather than a planned design, but the idea behind it is quite similar, as the navigation would become easier and more straight-forward.  
The ideas behind this ideal city are explaned in more depth [here](https://online.scuola.zanichelli.it/ilcriccoditeodoro/files/2011/10/it-urbani16.pdf), though the text is in Italian, I couldn't find an English version, sorry. It's mostly about geometry and inter-connections within the city walls. 
> 
> Another thing I wanted to say was that the research I did for this fic in order to familiarize myself with the traditional Japanese architecture, be it sacrilegious or residential, is actually being of great help with one of the building design projects I'm currently working on. So, never think that a research you do for one of your additional interests is ever useless or a waste of time, you never know when it might end up useful! 
> 
> Now, onto the chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

Upon arriving back in their house, Madara disappeared somewhere down the corridor while Tobirama went to the main room, determined to focus entirely on the task of sorting through his belongings and keeping his mind away from how confusing the whole interaction on the training fields between the two of them had been. He knelt down next to one of the wooden crates, released the seal and removed the lid, and found part of the scrolls containing some of his current research. Would putting them on the bookcase in the bedroom be suitable enough? But then, where would he put his other scrolls and books? And the bedroom was certainly not the best place for research, especially not his own, as it tended to get out of hand more often than he’d like to admit. Some other place in the house? He’d yet to go around all the rooms, and he was sure there were a few more doors along the corridor. Maybe he should go do that first, and then better decide where to store his things.

Tobirama got back up on his feet and decided to follow to where Madara had disappeared earlier. It seemed both logical and safer, as it would not mistakenly look as if he was scouting around in search for some hidden secret or something. He knocked on what he presumed was the right door, since after a quick chakra scan he could feel Madara’s immense presence on the other side, and a second or two later was granted permission to enter in a somewhat tired voice. Tobirama willed himself not to read too much in the other’s tone and pushed open the door, stepping inside what could only be a study or a home office. One of the walls had a bookcase along its entire length and height, but was only filled a third of the way. A smaller bookcase was placed along the wall with the door, empty but for a row of books and some boxes in the lower part. On the opposite wall, there was a large window which let enough light in the entire room that made the reading of even the titles of the books on the shelves next to the door easy. On the two ends of the window, set perpendicularly to it were two large desks, and Madara had sat at the one to the left, a few scrolls unrolled in front of him, yet his head was turned towards Tobirama,

“Is something wrong?” The Uchiha still had that tired note to his voice, but now there was also something akin to weariness, and the younger had no idea what had put it here.

“No, everything is fine. I simply thought it would be better if I got to see all of the house before I decided where to put my things.”

Madara hummed, and when he spoke again the weariness was gone,

“Makes sense. You can store your scrolls and books here, if you want, as well as work on whatever it is that currently has your mind occupied.” The corners of the older’s mouth turned up slightly in a smile, and Tobirama decided not to try and decipher it, instead focusing on the conversation fully,

“Would I not be a distraction to you? Is this not where you work?” Describing himself as a ‘distraction’ hardly covered what he most likely would be, but an ‘annoyance’ sounded childish and he could not bring himself to say something harsher; he’d heard the variety enough times in his life, no need to add to it, and by his own doing at that.

“As you can see, there are two desks. If I had thought you a distraction, I would not have furnished the room so. It’s yours to use as you see fit, as I told you.” There was amusement to the tiredness now, and Tobirama once more decided not to dwell on it, instead nodding,

“Thank you.”

“Hm. Do you need any help with moving your things?”

“No, I can manage.” It was unsettling, how freely Madara offered his assistance, and Tobirama needed a distraction. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“You didn’t. I was just finishing up. Speaking of which,” Madara rolled up the two scrolls lying in front of him and stood from his chair, “there are some things I need to take care of. I’ll most likely be gone for a few hours, but I’ll try to make it quick. Would you be alright on your own here?”

The Uchiha’s tone was laced with notes of worry, and it only served to further irritate Tobirama that he’d ask him such a thing, that he’d assume him to be defenceless on his own, unable to look after himself. A frown found its way on his face and he barely held the iciness out of his voice as he responded,

“I am far from helpless. I believe I am capable of surviving in your absence for a few hours.”

The frown on Madara’s face spoke more of confusion than of anger, even if it contained traces of both,

“I know you are. I only meant it as an inquiry on whether you wished to be left alone here, but it would seem that the answer is obvious and my presence is unwanted.” Tobirama was about to open his mouth and tell the Uchiha just how correct he was, but Madara let out a sigh and continued, his tone lacking the previous anger, making the tiredness all the more apparent, “Perhaps I worded that question poorly. It was not my intention to offend you. I’m really not good with this.”

All the irritation dissipated from Tobirama and he was left staring at Madara, unsure as to how to react. The Uchiha collected his scrolls and made to exit the room, and as he passed by the younger one, Tobirama finally got his bearings back and managed to open his mouth,

“It was my fault for misunderstanding you. I apologize for overreacting.”

Madara stopped and turned to him, the neutral expression that Tobirama had grown to despise back on his face,

“It’s fine. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The Uchiha waited for him to nod, then turned away and left, the sound of the front door of the house opening and closing not a minute later. Tobirama let out a sigh and went back to exploring the house, forcing his brain to focus on something else than Madara and his behaviour.

One of the other doors led to a guest bedroom with an adjoined bathroom, which held no interest to him, so he did not waste time to inspect it any further. Next to their shared bedroom, there was a storage room, inside it a cupboard containing a few cleaning supplies, and a much larger number of weapons and armour displayed along the walls. The sight of the red armour Madara usually wore during battle unnerved him, and he turned around and out of the room, closing the door quietly behind his back.

The final door led to a mostly bare tea room. Beside the tatami mats and the low table being present as per indication to what the room served for, there were no decorations along the walls, and that made it seem abandoned and unused. He walked over to the sliding doors and pulled them open, letting the sunlight in. It did not help liven-up the room and he wondered whether he could ask Hashirama or his mother to send him a bonsai to put inside. It would be nice to have a piece of home here, even more such one that he could busy himself with whenever the need for it came. He’d promised to send letters, so he could likely request one when he wrote. And perhaps the katana Madara had gifted him with would be suitable for this room. It was in a way connected to both of them, so it would do. Besides, it was one of the most beautiful weapons Tobirama had laid his eyes upon, so not displaying it seemed like a waste.

Turning back towards the garden, he was pleased to find it surrounded by two-metre tall walls and the compound wall in the far end. What brought him even more joy was the koi pond near the house, a few fish swimming around in it despite the low temperatures. There was not much greenery around, either because of the cold or because Madara had not planted much yet, but the water features, one next to the pond and another two farther away, made the space seem lovely, even if only in his eyes. He found himself looking forward to the warmer days of spring or summer, when he could come out here and enjoy the peace and quiet, submerged into his own thoughts.

Having fully explored the house, Tobirama went back inside to the main room, having decided where he’d store his various belongings, and set to the task.

It took him a bit more than two hours, and he was back in the main room, trying to figure out what to do with the now-empty wooden crates, when Madara came home. Tobirama heard him go back to the office, drop unceremoniously more than the two scrolls he had taken with him on the desk, then stalk back to the main room, where he stopped and looked at the younger. He was obviously highly irritated and Tobirama wondered if it was because of something he’d done, but before he could apologize, Madara spoke,

“We’re to have dinner with my family at the main house tonight, so if you’re done, we better go.”

“If this is the reason why you’re angry, then perhaps it’s best for us not to go.” The younger said warily, not wanting to misinterpret something again and repeat the almost-argument from earlier.

“No, it’s because of the elders’ stupidity, but you should not concern yourself with that. And we can’t skip the dinner, unfortunately, since I don’t want to deal with my family’s pestering if we do.”

It all made sense, then, and Tobirama understood all too well why Madara was in such a mood. He nodded,

“I’m done. All that’s left is to figure out what to do with these crates.”

“Leave them. I’ll bring them to the smiths for their forges tomorrow.”

That was indeed a logical decision, and Tobirama nodded again and joined Madara in heading back to the bedroom so they could prepare for the dinner. Madara grabbed an outfit for himself, something muted blue to replace the purple, and went off to the bathroom to change. Using the opportunity, Tobirama pulled out one of his nicer-looking dark blue kimono and a lighter hakama, and quickly changed, hurrying up to finish before the other joined him. Once done, the two of them left their home and made their way over to the main house.

They were greeted by Izuna as he opened the door for them, grinning teasingly at Tobirama and smiling widely at Madara,

“Took you long enough. Mother is starting to get restless and you know how father gets when that happens.”

“Yes, yes, move over so we can enter, at least.” Part of the irritation that had all but consumed Madara earlier had thankfully left him, and he was speaking more or less calmly now, much to Tobirama’s relief.

Izuna did move away, but not before rolling his eyes at his older brother, if the way his head moved was any indication, and Tobirama would have laughed, had he not been so anxious about the whole ordeal with the dinner.

As they reached the tea room, Lady Uchiha welcomed them with a soft smile that once again reminded Tobirama of his own mother, while Uchiha Tajima grunted out a greeting, not dissimilar to the way his own father usually did. He dwelled over the parallels as he was ushered to take a seat, but could not decide how he felt about them before the meal started and he had to focus on his surroundings again. Izuna was telling some story to his parents, something involving a cat for some reason, while Madara was quietly eating to his left, not giving any indication that he was paying attention to his brother, but Tobirama suspected he was, as it was hard to imagine Madara unaware of his ambience.

After getting progressively more animated as he spoke, Izuna finished his story, and both Madara and Lady Uchiha let out a quiet laugh. Tobirama didn’t know why, as he had stopped listening to the words a while ago, but it did not escape him how similar both laughs sounded, despite Madara’s being much deeper. He wondered if his husband bore more similarities to his mother, and what they were, but before he could start contemplating it, the woman spoke,

“Tobirama, dear, how have you been settling in so far? There hasn’t been any trouble, I hope.” The soft smile was back on her face and he found himself inexplicably ready to trust her, despite knowing better.

“No, it’s all well, thank you, Lady Uchiha.” He hesitantly smiled back, and she leaned slightly forward, as if to conspire with him,

“Please, simply Kazumi would be enough, no need to be so formal.”

He couldn’t help but bow his head slightly to her, mostly to hide his surprised embarrassment though he’d deny that, and responded,

“As you wish, Kazumi-sama.”

That earned him another quiet laugh and a snort from Izuna which he ignored, then Kazumi leaned back to her original position,

“We’ll work on that, I suppose. Now, is there anything that you lack in your house? Is my son treating you well?”

He saw Madara raise his head from the corner of his eye, but decided to not turn to him, instead simply answering,

“I believe we have everything we might need in the house, thank you for the consideration. And Madara has been nothing but kind to me.” The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how true they were. Because of all his terror of the older one, he had begun to believe that his life would turn to hell once he was within the Uchiha lands. But Madara had turned out to be much different than what he had expected, and it only served to reinforce his conviction to get to know him better before reaching a conclusion.

“Good. He has a very kind heart and it’s a pity that not many people get to see it.”

“Mother, please don’t speak about me as if I weren’t present.” Madara spoke up for the first time since the beginning of the dinner, and Tobirama was surprised to hear embarrassment instead of irritation in his voice.

“Of course, dear. Did you show Tobirama around the compound?”

“Yes, this morning.”

“Hm. All of it?”

“Most of it, and told him what was in the parts we didn’t go to.”

“And why not go there as well?”

“Because I figured it would be more interesting to him to explore the places for himself.”

“Really, now? And why is that?” Kazumi’s smile had adopted a sharper edge to it, and Tobirama thought it would be better to intervene before Madara got angry because of something the older was not at fault for,

“He’s correct, Kazumi-sama, I would find it more enjoyable to explore them in my own time.”

The interruption seemed to attract the attention of all four Uchiha, and Tobirama regretted opening his mouth until he saw Madara’s lips turn up slightly and Kazumi’s smile lose its sharpness.

“In that case, I suppose it’s even better this way. It would provide you with an entertainment at least for a while, so you won’t have to be bored at home all the time.” There was a note of understanding to her smile, the same one his own mother would get sometimes when he tried to hide something from her but she figured it out nevertheless, and he was grateful to her then, for all the effort she was putting in for his sake. But then he recalled what he’d been considering the week before the wedding, and decided that now would be a good time to bring it up.

“Speaking of this, it’s unfair of me to only sit at home uselessly and leave all the providing to be taken care of by Madara. I would like to offer my skills and knowledge of seals, as well as my medical capabilities and the research on various techniques and chakra theory, to be used in any way you see fit.”

A brief surprised silence followed, and then Uchiha Tajima spoke for the first time, startling Tobirama,

“I accept your offer. Give me a few days to decide where your skills would be of best use and I’ll let you know.”

Tobirama instantly forced himself to overcome his stunned state and bowed his head to the clan head respectfully,

“Thank you, Uchiha-sama.”

He received a low hum in answer, and then Kazumi spoke again, an intrigued note in her voice,

“Seals, you say? I’d appreciate if you could tell me a bit about them in more depth.”

At her soft smile, Tobirama felt warmth spread through him at the clear acceptance she had given him, an appreciation for his skills, much more than he had even dared to hope for, and found himself smiling in turn,

“I’d gladly do so whenever you want to, Kazumi-sama.”

After that, the atmosphere seemed much less tense than it had been before, and Tobirama started paying more attention to the conversation around him, even to Izuna’s ridiculous stories. It lasted for about an hour longer, and after the exchange of farewells, Madara and him were on their way towards their home.

It took them longer to reach it than he had expected, as this time he made note of where they passed through, not only following the other blindly, and as he closed the door behind himself, decided to ask,

“Why is our house so far to the side from the centre of the compound? Shouldn’t you as future clan head live closer to it?”

Madara turned to him with a curious expression on his face, as if wondering what had brought this about,

“I prefer it this way, as it means I get to stay mostly out of the elders’ way. They tend to disapprove of me and my ideas, and sometimes have the nerve to snarl at me whenever they see me, so I’d like to avoid that as much as possible. Besides, by living right under the compound walls, I could react quickly enough in case there is an attack, and so protect everyone inside.” A barely noticeable hesitation passed over the Uchiha’s face, and then he continued in a quieter voice, “And I did it for your sake, too. I thought you’d want to have as little to do with the clan as possible, so it made sense.”

Tobirama was taken aback by Madara considering his point of view as he made the decision, but before he could get overwhelmed by that confusing variety of emotions, he concentrated on the first part, the one much easier for him to comprehend. He’d never imagined he’d have such a thing in common with someone else, much less expected to have it with Madara of all people, but he recognized what had led to that choice.

“I understand.” He couldn’t say more, he wasn’t ready to share that part with Madara yet, and didn’t know whether he’d ever be. But the time was certainly not now, and he was glad when the other simply nodded and turned to go to their bedroom, Tobirama following behind.

They went to bed silently, but this night, Tobirama didn’t lay on the very edge of the bed, and falling asleep came easier to him, still focused on Madara’s quiet breaths on the other side. The warmth the other seemed to radiate only helped along, as it lulled him calmly to rest.


	9. ix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing comments for the last chapter!!! <3   
Honestly, if there is some mistake you find, or something doesn't seem at the right place, just tell me and I'll try my best to fix it. 
> 
> As for this chapter, it's my favourite so far and I hope that you'll enjoy it as much as I do! ^^ I'd be happy to hear what you think!

Being alone in the room upon waking up for a second time in a row should not have been as surprising to Tobirama as it was. He was so used to being the first one up and about in the mornings that having someone else do so before him was strange. And the bed had gone completely cold, which meant it had been some time since Madara had risen.

With a slight frown about not even noticing when the other had left, Tobirama pushed the sheets off of himself and got up, not bothering to adjust his yukata as he went over to the bathroom to start the day.

After a quick hot shower to warm himself up, he pulled on a similar attire to the one he had worn the previous day, still lacking any clan crests, and went to the kitchen. Upon finding it empty, he dispelled a small amount of chakra through the house in search of the other, but could not sense him in any of the rooms, nor the garden. It would seem that he’d been left alone, then. After being practically glued to Madara the previous day, his absence now seemed slightly strange, but Tobirama decided not to dwell on that and directed himself towards the countertop instead. There, he was surprised to find the teapot full, with an empty cup next to it, a bowl of rice with a raw egg and some sesame seeds on top, and another bowl with what smelled like miso soup. Next to the chopsticks on the other side of the bowl, there was a small note. Tobirama picked it up and let his eyes roam over the hurried, but neat handwriting: ‘_You’ll have the day to yourself as, unfortunately, I have things to deal with today. Enjoy breakfast. I tried to not overdo the spices_.’. He placed the small piece of paper back down carefully and stared at it for a few moments. It was an oddly considerate gesture, and had brought a pleasant warmth with it that Tobirama could not classify properly. Figuring out the older’s possible motives seemed like too bothersome a task for the moment, so instead he brought the bowls to the table, then went back to pour himself some tea, and settled down to eat.

Madara had done remarkably well with the spices, keeping them to the almost minimum for the taste to be felt but not to be overbearing. For some reason, he had not expected the Uchiha to know how to cook, much less to be able to do it so well and to produce such delicious results. He could thank him by returning the favour, perhaps for dinner, as Madara would probably be tired when he returned from whatever he’d be doing the whole day.

Smiling slightly at his musings, Tobirama finished his meal and set on to take care of the dishes, thinking about what he could do during the day. It had been a while since he had the opportunity to just do nothing and relax for a time, so perhaps he could get a book and enjoy some reading. That seemed like a good plan for until he got bored, but he’d think of what to do after when it came to it. For now, he wiped his hands on the tea towel hanging on one of the cupboard handles, and went back to the bedroom to choose a book.

At first, he automatically reached for one of his books on seals that he’d been meaning to read in a while, but then his curiosity got the better of him and he turned towards Madara’s books on mythology that had caught his attention his first night here. Would the stories inside be the same as the ones he’d heard and later read as a child? Or would there be a twist, a stark divergence that would appeal to Uchiha tastes more? His hand fell on one of the books that had its spine broken from frequent use, and he pulled it out of its spot, turning it around to look at the front cover. It was simple, of the same faded beige the rest of the cover was, with the title written in big stylized kanji in the middle. It looked unremarkably plain, nothing that would grab anyone’s attention from the first glance, but the obviously worn condition of it spoke of its true value. That was enough for Tobirama and he went back to the main room, settled comfortably down in the soft cushions around the kotatsu, and let himself be pulled in the stories.

A few hours later, he finally let the book fall closed and lowered it in his lap. There were slight differences between what he knew and what was written, but they were so miniscule that they hardly mattered for the outcome of the stories or the idea that was left behind in the end. The Uchiha were raised with the same stories as the Senju. It should not have been surprising, not in the slightest, yet there he was, his presumptions challenged once more. He had been told such horrible things about the Uchiha, about how they had been raised, how they were nurtured, and he had been such an idiot to believe in all that. He’d let himself be lied to, be manipulated into hating a people for no other reason than being tricked into believing they were nothing more but a monstrous enemy, and he was angry at himself for his naivety. He should no longer consider any of those stories as the truth, he should completely discard them and build up an understanding of the Uchiha by himself. It would not happen overnight, he had no illusions about that, but once having set his mind on it, it would surely come to be. 

Satisfied with his decision, Tobirama stood up from the cushions and went back to the bedroom to return the book to its place. He then walked over to the kitchen as it was nearing noon and he should get the meal out of the way so he could concentrate on other things in the afternoon without being distracted by cravings for food. Some rice and fresh fish made for a proper enough meal, and he quickly finished that, thinking about what he could do for the rest of the day.

He’d settled on continuing with his research and was on his way back to the office, when there was an insistent knocking on the front door. Tobirama froze in his tracks and dispelled some chakra, hoping he would recognize the signature. As luck would have it, he was well familiar with this presence, and he resumed his walking, only turning in the other direction. He opened the door and was met with Izuna’s grinning face,

“If you’re looking for your brother, he’s out for the day, and no, I don’t know where he is.” Tobirama kept his voice calm and disinterested, hoping that the other would be gone soon and would leave him to his research unbothered.

“I know exactly where he is, but I’m here for you.” The grin widened and were Tobirama not so irritated, he would be unsettled.

“What would you need me for?” He couldn’t help but let a note of mockery lace with his voice, the old rivalry showing its head uninvited.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, dear brother-in-law.” Izuna had sweetened up his voice, the grin still firmly in place, obviously undeterred from what he had come for. “I need a good spar and you’re the only one besides aniki who could offer that. So, be nice and come on, let’s go!” He made to take hold of Tobirama’s arm to probably pull him after himself, but the older one quickly moved it out of the way and narrowed his eyes,

“You want to spar? And how could I know that your clan won’t take that as me attacking you?”

Izuna let out an impatient noise and moved his head in what Tobirama had learnt meant a rolling of one’s eyes, then made to grab for his arm again, still unsuccessfully,

“Come on, no one’s stupid enough to attack someone in the middle of their clan all alone, especially not you. If it would make you feel better, though, I can just ask my cousin to stand at the entrance of the training grounds and let everyone know that we’re just playing around and you’re not evilly out for my blood.”

Pulling his arm out of the way of the umpteenth grab, Tobirama let out a resigned sigh,

“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, will you?”

“Glad we’ve reached an understanding! I knew I could count on you!” Izuna managed to take hold of his arm, only because Tobirama allowed it, and pulled him unceremoniously out of the house, starting on his way to what the older assumed would be the large training grounds.

“Let go of me, I can walk on my own!” He hissed at the younger, and Izuna turned to pout at him,

“But how would I know you wouldn’t just go back and leave me?”

“I won’t because you’re too annoying to leave me alone, were I to go. It’s better to get this over with quick so I can go back to my research in peace.” He finally managed to pull his arm out of the other’s grasp, and somehow Izuna managed to pout harder; how was this man his fierce rival?

“Don’t be so mean. I’m offering you entertainment and you just want to go back to your boring books?”

“They’re not boring, and you stated clearly that it’s you who’s using me for their own entertainment. Now, if you continue complaining, I might as well just go.”

“Nooo, I’ll stop, just stay, I’m really bored and there’s no one better to spar with than you when aniki is busy. Come on!” Izuna had the audacity to whine and Tobirama let out an exasperated sigh. He would not be able to get away from this, would he?

“Fine, just stop acting like a child.”

“Yes! I knew you would agree in the end!” The grin was back and Izuna turned around to continue towards the training grounds, apparently trusting Tobirama to follow him.

With yet another sigh, he did actually trail after the young Uchiha, if only so he could finish with whatever Izuna wanted and be left to his research later.

When they neared the training grounds, Izuna took a turn and went towards one of the two dojo instead of the open-air fields as Tobirama had expected. He seemingly hesitated in his steps because the younger turned back towards him with a grin,

“I’ll just let my cousin know to call people off if they decide to intervene. Wait here or go on ahead, it’s up to you.” Izuna did not wait for a response and quickly went inside the building. Tobirama decided that he’d wait outside, as he didn’t think it a good idea to wander about the grounds where there were probably many Uchiha already.

True to his word, Izuna didn’t take long before he returned, this time however with another Uchiha in tow. The newcomer, who had to be the cousin Izuna had spoken of, looked somewhere around their age, if not slightly younger, and had such a bored expression on his face that Tobirama almost laughed.

“Good, you’re still here! I worried for a moment that you’d left me and I’d have to either come get you again or die of boredom.” Izuna dramatically put a hand over his heart and Tobirama couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Then, the clan head’s son grabbed the other Uchiha’s arm and pulled him forward, “This is my cousin, Hikaku, and he assured me no one would bother us, as long as he’s here. Which, you will be, right, Hikaku?” There was the sweet tone again, accompanied with a smile that couldn’t be faker if Izuna had tried, and there was a story there that Tobirama wanted to know but the moment wasn’t right to ask, so he bit his tongue to hold his curiosity back. Hikaku waved around with his hand as if to chase away a fly, and responded as if it cost him a great lot to open his mouth,

“Sure, sure, I said I will, didn’t I? I can’t believe you’re still stuck on that one time.”

“I’m stuck because you promised and then you weren’t there! I thought I was your favourite cousin, how could you do this to me?” The overly-dramatic way in which Izuna acted had gone from annoying to amusing when it was not directed at him, and Tobirama pressed his lips tightly to stop himself from laughing.

“And I thought that as your favourite cousin, I’d be long forgiven for one mishap, but apparently I was wrong.” Hikaku sighed just as dramatically and put a hand on his hips, looking away from Izuna. Apparently that was an Uchiha thing, and Tobirama would just have to get used to it, which probably wouldn’t be that hard, given how amusing it could be. He wondered whether Madara had it in him to act so ridiculously, and at the image he could barely hold himself from laughing out loud then and there. Luckily, he managed to get a grip on himself, and turned his attention back to the two Uchiha, who were still arguing.

“Izuna. I have other things to do. If we’re going to spar, let’s get on with it.” Tobirama tried to keep his tone even and disinterested, and congratulated himself when he succeeded. Both Uchiha turned to him, the older with a pout and the younger with an amused smile, and Hikaku said,

“You better listen to your brother-in-law, cousin. Don’t forget he could still kick your ass.” With that, the younger Uchiha turned around with a wave over his shoulder, and went to sit in the shadows at the stairs of the dojo, fulfilling his promise of keeping people from intervening with their spar.

Izuna let out a disgruntled sound and Tobirama couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“You’re both so horrible!” Izuna crossed his arms in front of his chest and stalked over towards the open-air grounds, and this time Tobirama actually let out a small laugh as he followed behind the other.

They got to a clearing somewhere in the far ends of the grounds, almost beneath the compound walls, and Izuna turned to face him, the grin back on his face as if it had never left,

“I forgot my sword and you didn’t take yours either, so we’re going to have to make do without. No restrictions, right?”

“Sure. Come on, then.” Tobirama let his chakra flow freely, accumulating a part of it for a technique, and could clearly feel Izuna doing the same, his presence unrestrained like a wildfire, flaring madly around him. He attacked then, the Uchiha responding not even a moment later, and they found themselves locked in a well-known dance, a back-and-forth of limbs and elements, a windwhirl of movement and power.

Tobirama had missed this. He would never admit that out loud, would never even hint towards it, but it was true nonetheless. Ever since the ceasefire had been announced, he had hardly sparred with anyone, excluding the occasional mock fight with his cousin, but with her he held back too much. She was a fearsome, incredibly capable warrior, and could easily take almost anyone in a fight. But he was stronger than her and would never consciously hurt her; she was a part of his family, and he would never let any harm come to her. Hashirama had been mostly busy, and they had managed to spar once, but then it was his older brother who held back way too much, and that was no fun.

With Izuna, however, the only thing he had to be mindful of was the fatality of the hit. The Uchiha could take almost everything Tobirama could give, and hit back just as hard in turn. He was just as much of a proficient fighter as Tobirama himself, and his chakra reserves rivalled his own. The only reason why Tobirama had managed to best him was because he was the superior strategist, the younger relying too much on his eyes and attacking too instinctively. Besides this, however, they were equally placed, and it made for some of the most challengingly enjoyable fights the older had ever been a part of.

He immersed himself in the spar, completely ignoring their surroundings, as he parred hit after hit, giving one in turn each time. The continuous meetings of their fire and water techniques had submerged the whole grounds in a thick mist, but Tobirama could easily sense where the other was and how he would attack, and Izuna could do it just as easily with his eyes. The avoidance of those eyes had become a second nature for Tobirama at this point, and it nullified the advantage they would have otherwise given Izuna. Back during the war, he frequently aimed for them, but now he had to be careful not to harm them. It was only a spar, they were no longer enemies, they were supposed to be family now, even, and he would not inflict such damage to the younger. Instead he aimed his attacks lower, parring the Uchiha’s own and giving back as good as he was getting.

The hours stretched and neither of them had managed to come on top of the match. They were well familiar with the other’s fighting style and it was hard to surprise each other with an unexpected attack. Their stamina, however, wasn’t endless, and Tobirama found himself starting to tire at some point. But he ignored that and kept going, giving no indication that he was affected in any way, just as Izuna continued his assault with the same vigour. One of them had to give soon enough, anyway.

He’d truly lost track of time when Izuna’s hit aimed at the left part of his ribcage missed him by a bit and the young Uchiha staggered forward, almost tripping until Tobirama got hold of his arm and steadied him. Izuna quickly straightened himself and turned to face him, but did not move to attack otherwise, and Tobirama let him go,

“I think that’s enough. We’ve been out here for quite a while.” He started to calm his breathing, letting the tension dissipate from his rigid muscles and only then felt how pleasantly exhausted he was.

“You’re giving up already? Don’t be like that!” Izuna rasped in between deep breaths, a satisfied grin on his face. Tobirama grinned slightly in turn,

“You almost fell on your face. We’ll spar again some other time, but for today that’s enough.”

“I didn’t fall on my face, don’t make things up! And you better be ready for the next time, because I won’t be going easy on you!” Izuna stuck his finger out to point at his chest and Tobirama raised an amused eyebrow at him,

“I’d be disappointed if you went easy on me. It would also be immensely stupid of you to do so, given that I wouldn’t be.”

“Hm. You’d better not!”

Tobirama grinned at him fully and turned to go,

“Yes, yes. See you around, Izuna.”

“Kiss my brother for me, will you?” The younger Uchiha had the audacity to snicker at his own remark, and Tobirama was so very tempted to turn right back around and kick his ass so hard he wouldn’t be able to walk for a week. But he knew he couldn’t do that, so instead he grit his teeth to keep himself from saying something stupid, willed his blood to get away from his face (and if it didn’t, he could always blame it on the spar, right?) and made on his way towards their house. He still had to make dinner as a thanks to Madara for the breakfast, and he had to decide what exactly it would be.


	10. x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing support in the comments, it means the world to me!!! <333
> 
> Terribly sorry for the delay in updating, but unfortunately, from now on updates will be coming less regularly as the only things I have the time to write are academic papers :/
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I cannot wait to hear your thoughts on it!

After a quick shower to get all the sweat and dirt from the sparring off himself, Tobirama went to the kitchen and started looking through the cupboards to decide what to make for dinner. In the end, he settled for various tempura since they had the ingredients and it wouldn’t take long. He could make the tentsuyu sauce in addition so Madara could have as much of a strong flavour as he wanted.

Just as he was putting the final slices of vegetables in the pan, the front door opened, and Madara trailed over to the office. Sounds of paper shuffling and scrolls being deposited of followed, then the door was pulled closed and the footsteps neared until they stopped in the kitchen a few metres from him. Tobirama didn’t turn right away, instead took the slices out of the pan and killed the fire, then took hold of the dish where he had put the prepared food and then made for the table, finally facing the Uchiha. He had taken on a relaxed stance, his body betraying how tired he was, but had a small soft smile on his face,

“Thank you for taking care of dinner.”

“You don’t have to. You were busy, I wasn’t, so it was only logical. Besides, you left breakfast for me this morning. Thank you for that.” Tobirama felt himself blush lightly in embarrassment as the small smile on the older’s face grew,

“You’re welcome.”

They stood staring at each other for a moment, Tobirama taking the time to memorize the smile and file it away right beside the array of feelings he was still trying to categorize, until he realized that he was still holding the dish and looked away, setting it down on the table,

“Sit down, then, I’ll be right back.”

He turned back to the countertop and took hold of the small shallow bowl he had used for the sauce, then put it down on the table where Madara had already settled, and sat down on the opposite side. They began their meal, and the Uchiha went for the tentsuyu almost immediately, getting a small smile out of Tobirama. He himself didn’t reach for it, the flavour of the food already prominent enough as it was, but he was glad he made the right decision to prepare it for the other. They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, until Madara spoke,

“I heard you and Izuna fought today.” His tone was softly neutral, as if to hide something, and that evident distrust irritated Tobirama slightly,

“We didn’t fight, we sparred.” He kept his own voice even, only accentuating on the last word. A brief silence fell again as Madara didn’t respond, and Tobirama continued, “I won’t hurt your brother, you shouldn’t worry about that.”

“I know. But I’m still worried about the both of you.”

The sudden shock of the admission kept him from answering immediately, but after willing himself to ignore his own thoughts, Tobirama focused again on the conversation, reassuring the other,

“We’ve fought hundreds of times before. We know each other well enough to be able to stop ourselves in time.”

Madara studied him for a second, so intently that Tobirama could feel his eyes boring through his skin, then hummed,

“It might even turn out for the best. Like this, the clan would see what you’re capable of up close, without the imminent danger of the war. And it might also lead to you and Izuna getting along better, who knows.” The small smile was back and Tobirama let out a disbelieving sound with a smile of his own, but did not respond otherwise, instead going back to his meal.

They finished their dinner in a companionable silence after that, and Madara insisted that he take care of the dishes afterwards as it was only fair. Tobirama didn’t argue much, choosing to go get ready for sleep as he was indeed tired from his match with Izuna earlier.

Once they were both in bed and with the lights off, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep, pleasantly lulled by the warmth beneath the covers. And that heat embraced him, pulling him in further and further as he let himself be taken, blissfully submerging himself in it. It engulfed him then, blocking out everything else until he could feel only the pulsating haze surrounding him, and suddenly the bliss was gone, replaced by an unpleasant heaviness. He opened his eyes slowly to see what had changed and found himself enveloped by fire. Body going tense, he moved quickly to find a way out of it, away from the danger, his sword in one hand and the other ready to form seals at a moment’s notice. His eyes had begun stinging from the smoke and all he could see were the flickering tongues of the fire around him.

He strode on, releasing water to clear a path for himself to somewhere, away from the flames, when there was a black shadow advancing quickly towards him. Instinctively, he lifted his arm and struck the shadow with his sword before it could reach him, putting as much of his weight behind the hit as he could without losing his balance, and then pulled the weapon out swiftly, releasing a powerful stream of red, red blood. He moved to continue on his way far from the flames but before he could go, a hand grasped his forearm and the shadow fell on its knees right in front of him. He looked down then and found a face he knew all too well, staring at him with such an avidly accusing hate that he choked on the sharp breath he took. His sword dropped from his loose grip and he fell to his knees in front of Izuna’s dying form, and clutched his shoulders tightly, repeating his name and broken no’s again and again. Izuna’s eyes, as red as the blood that was rapidly flowing from his wound, glared at him disdainfully until all colour left them and Izuna fell forward, his forehead hitting Tobirama’s armoured shoulderblade and then the ground as Tobirama’s hands lost their grip and slid off the young Uchiha’s shoulders. He’d killed him. He had killed Izuna. What had he done? No. No, no, no, no. He couldn’t have, he shouldn’t have, this should not have happened, how could he, no, no,no,nonono-

Kicking the covers off, he jumped out of the bed and rushed straight to the bathroom, turning the water on and began scrubbing at his hands. The blood had soaked in so deeply that it refused to come off, it had painted his skin a deep crimson and had seeped through right to the bones, and he rubbed at it forcefully, again and again and again, but it wouldn’t come off-

“Tobirama?”

-his hands were still red, red, red, bloody red, just like Izuna’s eyes, and it was his fault, all his doing, and it wouldn’t come off, his nails couldn’t get it to go away, why was it still there, he deserved it, why had he done it, his fault, all the blood, off off off, all the red, so much red-

Warm careful hands took a soft hold of his own, stopping his frantic movements, his whole body going rigid for a moment as he realised those were Madara’s hands, and he dropped to his knees, rasping,

“I won’t fight you. I deserve it. Just get it over with.”

“What are you talking about?” The voice was low, confused, and so so soft, and Tobirama rasped again,

“Stop playing games. You know what I did. If you’ve come for me, then just end me here and now. Please don’t draw it out.” Desperation had swept in his broken voice towards the end, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the coming blow.

“I’m not here to hurt you. Why would you even think that?” Concern was thickly interlaced with the confusion, but the same softness was still there, still impossibly present. Tobirama pressed his eyes closed harder, chocking out,

“Izuna. I-… I killed him. I’m so sorry. My fault.” He lowered his head even more, resignation washing over him as Madara’s hold on his hands lightly tightened,

“You didn’t kill him. He’s still alive, and perfectly fine.” 

“Don’t lie to me. Please, just end it.”

“I’m not lying. I spoke with him before I came home. He’s alive and you did not kill him. It was a nightmare. You didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

The almost-plea in the last two words halted him then, and he willed himself to think logically. When he’d left the training grounds earlier after their spar, Izuna had been fine, there had been no blood, he was certain of that. And after that, he hadn’t left the house, he hadn’t seen Izuna, and therefore he couldn’t have killed him. Perhaps Madara was right, then.

Shakily, Tobirama pulled himself up to his feet using the hold Madara still had on his hands, but did not raise his head to look at the other, keeping his eyes glued to the floor between their bare feet. Madara didn’t let him go then, only loosened his careful grip, enough so that he could pull his hands free if he’d wanted, but Tobirama simply stood there, unmoving and unseeing.

“Let me take care of your hands.” It was placed as a statement, but the questioning tone could easily be heard, still oh-so-soft, and Tobirama nodded, following Madara as he pulled him gently over to sit at the bathtub’s edge. The older let go of his hands, turning back to the sink, and Tobirama let them fall to his lap, just then noticing that he’d clawed at his skin in his delirium, drawing blood where there had been none. He shut his eyes tightly and grit his teeth, cursing at himself internally for falling victim to his own unconsciousness, until his left hand was lifted and a warm wet towel was pressed to it carefully, wiping some of the blood away. He opened his eyes and followed the other’s movements as his hand was cleaned from all the red, until only the ragged scratches from his nails remained. Madara moved back to the sink to wash the towel and Tobirama let his hand fall back down. The same was repeated for his right hand, and the third time around Madara came back with bandages and carefully wrapped both of his hands, hiding the red angry streaks.

Placing the remaining bandage back in the cupboard next to the sink, Madara once again took a light hold of his hands and said softly, 

“Come, let’s have some tea.” he pulled him gently towards the kitchen, and let him settle down by the table as he went to prepare the beverage.

In a bit, Madara came back with the teapot and two cups, setting them on the table and sat down on the opposite side. He poured them both and handed one of the cups to Tobirama who shakily took hold of it, clenching his fingers around it tightly as to not drop it.

They drank in silence for a while as Tobirama slowly came back to himself, his breathing calming down and the rigidness of his muscles dissipating. Still not looking up at Madara, he said lowly,

“I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t be. I don’t sleep that much either way. And if you need me, then sleep is the last thing that matters.” Madara’s voice was soft, just as soft as it had been before, and Tobirama closed his eyes again. Did he truly deserve that softness? With what he’d pulled, kindness was the last thing he’d expected to receive, and yet here Madara was, giving it to him freely. He turned the other’s words around in his head a few times, but failed to come to a clear conclusion about what exactly it was that he wanted to respond, so instead he settled on simply whispering,

“Thank you.”

Madara hummed, the same softness present in the small sound as in his words.

A peaceful silence fell over them after that as they watched the first light of dawn lazily crawl in through the window, chasing the shadows of the night away.


	11. xi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all sooooo much for all the lovely comments!!!  
I am terribly sorry for the delay in updating, it seems like it's going to keep happening, unfortunately, since the exam session is coming soon :/
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Can't wait to read what you thought about it! <3

The two days after that passed by unremarkably. Madara was still busy the whole day, while Tobirama stayed at home and worked on his research. Madara still left him breakfast in the morning, while Tobirama cooked them dinner in the evenings.

The Uchiha didn’t bring up that night, and the younger was grateful to him for it. He’d healed his hands that same morning after the other had left, washing the bandages meticulously and storing them by the others in the cupboard next to the sink, and after he’d closed that small door, he’d willed himself to forget about the whole ordeal. And as Madara didn’t touch on it, he’d almost managed to not think about it at all. It was fine like that and he was glad he was allowed to have it. Had it been Hashirama, he’d be pestering Tobirama to talk about it, to tell his older brother what exactly had brought it around and whether he was still uneasy about it. But Madara let him be, and he was thankful for that.

The third day’s afternoon found him glaring down at the scrolls containing his research, willing them to show him where he had gone wrong, because he had to have done so at some point, seeing that the conclusion he’d come to didn’t add up at all. Had he misspelled a seal? That couldn’t be it, he’d checked five times already, and they were all correct. Maybe their order? No, no, that was the right one, the restricting ones came after and around the enforcing ones. The size perhaps? That could be it, but it should have been correct. He’d calculated the dispelled chakra needed to activate every single one of them and had drawn them accordingly in size. Did that mean then that he’d made a mistake in his calculations? Improbable, but possible. Now, if he could find the papers he’d done them on…

He rolled up the scrolls and pushed them to the side careful not to dislodge the silvery-blue seashell he’d still wanted to find the origin of but hadn’t gotten around to asking, revealing a mess of discarded paper sheets underneath. Why was he always so orderly in everything but his notes? It served for nothing except to make his life harder, that was for certain. He sighed and collected the sheets in a pile, deciding that it would be easier to go through them like this. Notes on release - no, notes on compatibility with restricting seals – no, order of seals – no, type of enforcing seals – no, type of-

“Tobirama?”

He gripped the papers tight and turned to look at Madara in the doorway. He should definitely stop getting so lost in his work that he completely forgot about his surroundings.

“Yes?”

“Father wants to speak with you about that offer you made during the dinner. Could you come with me?”

“Of course.” He placed the papers down on the desk and stood to walk over to Madara, who smiled at him for some reason and turned to make his way out of the house.

Instead of going to the main house, as Tobirama had assumed they would, Madara led him to the centre of the compound and towards one of what had to be the administrative buildings. He followed the older one inside, passing two other Uchiha by the entrance who probably stood there as guards, and as they reached one of the doors, Madara turned to him,

“The elders insisted they be present for this, so they’re with father inside. If they’re being hostile or ignorant towards you, they’re most likely trying to get a rise out of you. Don’t fall for it.” The note of concern could be heard even as Madara whispered lowly, and Tobirama swore to himself that he’d give the other no reason to worry,

“I won’t. I’m familiar with such games when it comes to elders. You mustn’t concern yourself over it.”

There was a displeased curve to Madara’s mouth, but he nodded nonetheless and turned to pull open the shoji to lead them in the room. Inside, around a low table sat Uchiha Tajima at the head side opposite from the door, and four other Uchiha, two on each side. They all turned to look at them the moment they entered, and Tobirama glued his eyes to the uchiwa on the front of the Clan Head’s robe after both he and Madara bowed their heads in a greeting.

“Tobirama.” Uchiha Tajima began with the same commanding voice he’d heard his own father use numerous times. “I’ve called you here to discuss the offer you made of your skills. As I’m sure my son has informed you.”

He wasn’t sure whether he was actually supposed to answer in any way, and if he would find the correct words, so he only nodded. It seemed to be enough for the Clan Head as he continued,

“It has been decided that your medical knowledge and abilities would be of most use currently. You will be appointed to the medical wards and expected to help in whatever the other healers need you to. It’s up to them to decide whether you’re suited for that position or not. Understood?”

“Yes, Uchiha-sama.” He kept his voice even and his eyes still on the uchiwa, his head slightly bowed, not wanting to raise a reaction of any kind, were he to misstep or misspeak.

“It would seem you’ve managed to domesticate him well, Madara.” One of the elders spoke then, his voice so full of mockery that he possibly barely held his laughter back, and Tobirama forced himself to give no outer indication that he’d even heard the remark. He’d had enough practice with such things to be able to hold himself together well; he didn’t move his eyes and kept his jaw relaxed, despite the heated anger within that craved to make itself known.

“See, he doesn’t even bite. Very well indeed, Madara. How did you manage it?” Another of the elders, sitting opposite of the first one, spoke, that same mockery more than evident in his voice. Tobirama willed himself to remain impassive, keeping his breathing regular, but he noticed as Madara made to take a step forward, and he took a hold of the back of his sleeve as quickly and discreetly as he could, stopping him in time. He would not be the reason why the Uchiha elders turned their disdain towards his husband, and he would do whatever he could to prevent that.

“Take this scroll and give it to the head healer when you go to the medical wards. She’ll know what to do with it.” Uchiha Tajima held out the scroll and Tobirama, thankful for the interruption, went forward, took it with a bow, and stepped back, eyes still firmly set on the uchiwa.

“Have you not been taught that it is disrespectful to not look whomever is speaking to you in the eyes, boy?” A third elder, this time a woman, spoke, and instead of mockery there was pure aversion in her voice. He forced himself to stay still and unphased, but her words managed to get to him, and he lowered his head in an attempt to hide his face as a mixture of anger and an unreasonable fear overtook his features. Would they force him to look in their eyes, then, and cast a genjutsu on him? Is that how they planned to break him? He’d let himself get used to Madara’s unexpected kindness and had forgotten how dangerous the Uchiha were. Once he was under the illusion, there was very little he could do to free himself. And even if he managed that, it would possibly only bring about worse treatment afterwards. He had no choice but to endure, then. If they forced him to look up, he’d comply. He managed to get a grip on his features, face falling back in a neutral expression, and awaited their command.

“If there is nothing else, father, we will be leaving.” Madara spoke lowly next to him, clearly barely containing his fury, and Tobirama desperately hoped that it would not turn the disdain of the elders to him.

“No, that’s all. You’re both dismissed.” Uchiha Tajima responded, thankfully before any of the elders could interject, and Madara and him bowed their heads and quickly made on their way out of the building.

The moment they were out of earshot, without turning to him as they continued on their way towards the medical wards, Madara said,

“Don’t pay any heed to what they said. They’re doing it on purpose.”

“I know. It’s fine.” The anger in the older’s voice was not directed at him, it was there for his sake instead, and Tobirama had a hard time assimilating that.

“No, it’s not fine! They have no right to treat you like that! I should go back right away and-“

“You’re not going back.” Tobirama gripped Madara’s forearm and forced him to keep walking forward instead of doing something impulsive that would bring about nothing good. “They have all the right to it, as I was, and possibly still am their enemy in their eyes. I might even have harmed or killed someone from their family during the war, and so the way they act is completely justified. Don’t bring their hatred upon yourself, you’re not the one who’s deserving of it.”

“And neither are you. A war is a war. If we continued to forever resent each other, then this peace would never last. This does not mean that whoever fell in battle should be ever forgotten, of course. But to seek out revenge would only start the bloodshed anew and that must be avoided at all cost. What they’re doing is looking for a way to do exactly that and I cannot believe that they’re allowed to do so unrestrained.” Madara got his words out through gritted teeth and Tobirama almost let go of him to step away, vividly reminded of the Uchiha’s fierceness on the battlefield. But then he remembered that this fury was not aimed at him and shook the image out of his mind.

“I agree with you. But going against the elders would not solve any of this. Let them act as they see fit. It was you who told me not to fall for their tricks, was it not?”

Madara only let out a forceful hum in response and continued on their way. Tobirama decided to cut the conversation there as it would most likely only enrage the other further and he wanted to avoid that.

Soon enough, they reached the medical wards and walked inside, Tobirama following Madara to the depths of the building. As they came to a door, Madara knocked on it and, once granted permission, pushed it open for them to enter. At the desk in what was obviously an office, sat a stern looking woman with typical features of the Uchiha clan, who was perhaps in her early thirties if what he had gathered from the lower half of her face could be sufficient to determine her age. She was looking expectantly at them, if the tilt of her head was any indication, and Madara was the first to speak,

“Excuse the interruption, Yuina-san. We’re here as of my father’s decision-“

“Ah, yes. He informed me of it.” The woman turned to him then, a small challenging smile on her lips, “So, you’ll be working with us, then? What are you skilled at?”

“Healing of minor and major injuries, surgeries, poisons and treatment of disruptions of the chakra network.”

“Hm. And how practiced are you?”

“I frequently put my knowledge to the practice during the war.”

That seemed to be the answer Yuina had looked for because her smile turned more genuine then and she leaned slightly forward, gathering some of the papers from her desk and holding them up to him,

“You’ll do, in that case. Here, take a look at these. This man was a part of one of the scouting teams that patrol the radius around the compound. He was the only one from his unit who returned, but his condition did not allow him to tell us what had happened before he collapsed. Your task will be to heal him, obviously, but prioritize getting him back in consciousness so we can learn what we’re dealing with. I’ll take you to where he is.” The woman stood as he nodded, and was rounding the desk when Madara spoke,

“Yuina-san, my father has sent a scroll.”

“Yes, yes, just leave it on the desk, I’ll look at it later. You’re free to go if there’s nothing else you need to take care of here, Madara-sama.” It was as clear as a dismissal could get if Tobirama had ever heard one, and he had to press his lips together to stop himself from grinning. To distract himself, he went over to the desk and laid down the scroll he’d been given, then turned back to Madara to nod at him with a small smile, assuring him that he could go if he wanted to. Madara clearly hesitated for a second, but then nodded and turned to leave,

“Have a pleasant afternoon, Yuina-san, Tobirama.”

“Thank you.” Tobirama managed to say, before his husband left the room. He turned back to the woman expectantly, and she grinned at him, beckoning him with her hand,

“Follow me, then, let’s see what you can do.”

He was led to another room where a sleeping man was laid in a bed, his face clearly contorted in pain. Tobirama neared him and took his pulse, displeased by how slowly the heart was beating. His skin had taken on an unhealthy yellowish hue and felt freezing to the touch. He turned towards Yuina with a frown,

“What was his condition when he returned?”

“He could barely hold himself up on his feet. His reactions were considerably slowed down and he seemed confused by his surroundings and our questions. His speech was delayed, if he even gave an answer, and he breathed shallowly. He was also shaking considerably.” Her tone was detached and even, as was expected from her profession, and he nodded in understanding,

“Sounds like typical symptoms of hypothermia. How far out were they patrolling and at what time?”

“About five kilometres, and slightly before noon. Why?”

“That’s strange. The temperatures today were not low enough to cause hypothermia, even in the forest. Something else must be the reason. Did you check him for frostbite?”

“Yes, he had his hands affected. But we re-warmed them and got them to move properly again.”

Tobirama took a hold of the man’s left arm and pulled it up to examine. The skin there looked worse than the rest and it felt hard and cold to the touch, as if it had not yet defrozen.

“Are you sure you got his hands to move again? It still feels like it’s affected.”

“That’s not possible, it should have subsided by now.” Yuina came to join him and examine the man’s hand for herself, frowning upon reaching the same conclusion as he had.

“Perhaps it was chakra-inflicted.” He suggested, lowering the arm.

“Hm. Do you know how to treat that?”

“I can try. If the foreign chakra is still to be found, it should be essentially what has caused the injury to resurface. I will isolate it and dissipate it, then treat the injury and we’ll see whether that would be enough.” He didn’t wait for permission, hoping he received one anyway, and set to the task, concentrating his own chakra to scan the man’s.

Finding the disruption wasn’t difficult and he focused on dividing the two different signatures, carefully pulling them away from each other. Once having managed that, he freed the foreign chakra and a thin layer of frost covered the ceiling above the bed. He then let his own chakra flow over the man’s hand, warming it up and healing any remaining damage, all the while returning the circulation of both his blood and his chakra.

As he finished, he pulled his hands away and observed for a few moments, waiting to see whether the symptoms would return. Luckily, they did not and he repeated the procedure for the man’s other hand. After that, he did a full-body chakra scan and, upon finding no other disruptions, turned to face Yuina,

“I think there are no other injuries. He still hasn’t recovered fully from the hypothermia, but with some warmth and a lot of rest, he should be fine. It’ll be a while until he’s conscious enough to answer any questions, however.”

“Right. I’m impressed that you managed all this so fast. I’m keeping you.” The woman smiled approvingly at him and he felt himself blush lightly, but his mind quickly returned to one of his earlier observations,

“Thank you. But once he wakes up, it would be crucial to learn what caused this. It was clearly unnatural and knowing what it is would prevent other patrols from being injured in the same way.”

“Obviously. Anyway, you’re free to go now. This was mostly a test and you’ve passed. I expect you here tomorrow morning, however.” A note of sternness laced her words at the end, and he nodded at her, a small grateful smile on his face,

“Of course. Have a pleasant evening, in that case, Yuina-san.”

“You as well, Tobirama-san.” Her smile was back then and his own widened a bit before bowing slightly and making his way out of the medical wards and towards home.

As he entered their house, he directed himself towards the kitchen where he was surprised to find Madara finishing up on whatever he was cooking for dinner.

“Ah, I could have taken care of that, you didn’t have to cut your work short just to make dinner.”

“I came straight home after I left the medical wards, so it was no issue.” Madara answered without turning to face him, instead continuing to stir whatever he had in the pot in front of himself.

“Do you need any help, then?” He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what he was supposed to do with himself.

“You could set the table. I’m almost done, anyway.”

“Sure.” Glad for the distraction, Tobirama quickly set to the task and soon they were seated at the table, a plate of what could only be yakisoba in front of each of them.

He took a bite, finding the taste slightly spicy but not overtly so, and pleasedly took another one afterwards, enjoying the meal. They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, until Madara broke it,

“So, how did it go?”

“Well, I suppose.” Tobirama put his chopsticks down, focusing on their conversation. “I’m expected to return there in the morning.”

“I’m glad. But will you?”

“Of course. I offered my knowledge and skills myself, didn’t I?” He smiled at Madara’s nod, but then he remembered his observations and a frown settled on his face instead. “I was tasked with healing a man who had been out patrolling. His injuries were chakra-inflicted, and he was apparently the only one from his unit to return. They’ll question him on the details once he’s awakened, but I thought you should know.”

Madara’s face had taken on a contemplative expression, and he nodded,

“Thank you for letting me know. Theirs is not the first patrol to not make it back, and there is surely something going on.”

“There have been others before?” He was surprised by that and was about to inquire about more details, but Madara spoke before he could,

“Don’t concern yourself with that. It’ll soon be taken care of. Just focus on whomever it is that you’re tasked with healing.”

Tobirama wanted to argue, to ask for more, but decided against it, as it was really none of his business to know such things, so instead he nodded and went back to his meal.

The rest of their dinner passed in silence, the comfort once again having returned, and after they had finished Tobirama insisted that it was fair if he took care of the dishes. Madara didn’t protest, just nodded and went to their bedroom to prepare for the night. Soon after, they settled in bed and it took even less than usual for Tobirama to fall asleep, possibly as a result from the emotional exhaustion by their meeting with the clan elders. He would have normally hypothesized over what had inflicted that injury on that man, but the warmth was too pleasant and he didn’t resist at all as sleep took over.


	12. xii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter in the middle of exam season??? Unbelievable. :D 
> 
> In all honesty, I haven't had the time to write a single word for this work since October, which I really really regret. But then, it's been over two months since I updated (atrocious, I know, and I'm sorry) so I thought I'd upload this already written chapter. 
> 
> I have no idea when I'll have the time to write again, seeing as there's university work to be done, projects to be designed, a portfolio to start and applying for an internship to be attempted. I'll try to squeeze in a bit of writing, but I can't make any promises at this point :( 
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read this and leave your support, it makes me incredibly happy!!! <3   
I hope you enjoy this chapter, and am looking forward to seeing what you thought of it!

That morning, Tobirama awoke early, as he was wont to do when he had a set task. The application of his skills at the medical wards gave him an opportunity to prove himself as both useful and worthy, and he would not compromise that by something as stupid as being late. Impressions mattered, as he had learned so very early on, and he had to leave an excellent one.

He grabbed the bed covers to push them off, but then halted immediately as he noticed the other body in the bed. Had he woken up before Madara? Slowly, he turned his head to his left and was met by the other’s sleeping face turned towards him. With the apparent danger of the Sharingan not currently present, Tobirama gave himself a few moments to study the older one’s features. Even sleeping, it seemed that Madara couldn’t quite let himself relax fully. His lips were downturned in a slight frown and his eyebrows were pulled together in a troubled expression. Despite the rest, there were tired bags under the tightly shut eyes, and Tobirama found himself copying the other’s frown. What had concerned Madara so deeply that he could not find repose even in sleep? Was it something to do with the clan, or was it an entirely different matter? If he were to ask, would he only worsen the situation, or would it bring the other some relief? Then again, if it concerned clan matters, it was certainly not his place to inquire, so he should probably stay out of whatever it was.

Even with the frown somewhat distorting them, Madara’s features were what some would describe as accurate. He had moderately full lips, the lower one standing out just barely compared to the upper. His nose was straight and on the small side, only softly upturned at the very end. The lashes framing his closed eyes were longer and fuller than Tobirama had expected, but he supposed he should have known better, seeing how thick Madara’s long hair seemed. And a few locks of that hair had fallen over the other’s cheek, obscuring a part of his face from Tobirama’s studying gaze. He lifted his hand to move it out of the way, but then quickly stopped himself. What was he doing? What had even prompted him to stare like that? It was a face like any other, had all the proper features, and that was it! He had other things to do and there was no doubt that Madara would not appreciate being stared at in the slightest.

Being mindful to keep his movements to the lightest possible and to not make any noise at all, Tobirama got out of the bed, took a change of clothes and walked into the bathroom, closing the door after himself quietly. He prepared himself for the day quickly, then walked back out into the bedroom, neatly setting the folded blue yukata he slept in down on his side of the bed, then went out of the room, pulling the door closed behind his back noiselessly.

Once in the kitchen, he set to prepare the tea and something quick for their breakfast, still careful to make as little sound as possible. Good thing he was a trained shinobi, otherwise he would have not been nearly as successful in his attempts as he was now.

A few minutes later found him sat at the table, lifting the teacup to his lips for a sip. He’d gotten so used to the milder-tasting tea which Madara prepared, that the strongly bitter flavour of his own brew surprised him. It shouldn’t have, he had been making it for himself for more than a decade, he was very familiar with it. So why was he so discomfited? He was behaving strangely this morning. It couldn’t be a result of yesterday’s events; they had been nothing he was unfamiliar with, after all. Perhaps the excitement at the prospect of finally being useful again? Yes, that could very well be it. When he had been useful to his own clan, they had treated him well, even if Hashirama continued to insist that their neutrality or their fearfully demanding things of him could not in any way be defined as ‘well’, but his brother didn’t understand. Now that he would be of use to the Uchiha, hopefully they would not act out on their resentment towards him. If he could get even neutrality, that would be good. He simply had to prove himself deserving of it, that was all.

Madara walking into the kitchen tore him away from his thoughts, and Tobirama turned to him just as the other noticed him and stopped in his tracks, stared at him for a moment, then smiled softly,

“Good morning. I thought you’d already left.” His voice still carried the remaining roughness from the sleep, and Tobirama was astounded by the fact that he didn’t immediately associate it with the other on the battlefield, but instead thought first of how troubled he had looked asleep. Yes, he was definitely behaving oddly today.

Ignoring that as he’d already established the reason as to why, he chose to smile up at Madara,

“Good morning. I should be leaving in a while, yes, but I thought I’d prepare breakfast first.” Madara nodded but did not respond or move otherwise, so Tobirama continued, “You’re more than welcome to join me, there’s enough for both of us.”

As if startled, Madara suddenly straightened from his relaxed stance, but before Tobirama could wonder what he’d said or done wrong, the older one smiled again,

“I’ll be right there in a bit.” He then moved over to the countertop to pour himself a cup of tea and get the remaining food, and quickly came back, settling down on the opposite side of him.

Like most of their shared meals, they ate in a companionable silence. Tobirama sneaked a few glances at Madara, finding him with a small smile instead of the frown he’d had on while sleeping. He would think that whatever bothered the other earlier had been forgotten, were it not for the almost imperceivable lines of tension around the older one’s mouth. It clearly was still there, at the back of Madara’s mind, tormenting him constantly even when he probably tried not to think about it. But should he inquire? Madara had once told him that he was free to ask him anything, but surely that had a limit. If it was something private, then he might even insult the other by asking. Better to keep quiet, he was sure.

He finished his tea and gathered his dishes, standing up to dispose of them in the sink. He pushed his long sleeves up and moved to turn on the water, but was halted by Madara speaking,

“I’ll take care of them. Head over to the medical wards, you clearly intended to go there early.” The sleepy roughness of his voice had subsided, leaving it its usual rumbling low that Tobirama had gotten used to hearing. He pulled his sleeves down over his forearms and turned to smile at Madara, even though the other couldn’t see him as he was sitting with his back to him,

“Thank you. I will be going, then. Have a pleasant day.” He made on his way and just before he exited the room, he caught Madara’s low pleased hum, and his smile widened fractionally. If Madara sounded that pleased, then maybe that thing that was troubling him was not so grave, and he shouldn’t even concern himself with it. His husband clearly had everything in hand, and he needn’t interfere.

After crossing the compound and forcing himself to ignore all the looks he was getting along his way, Tobirama arrived at the medical wards and entered the building, following the path to Yuina’s office. He knocked on the door and, after getting permission, walked into the room,

“Good morning, Yuina-san.” He inclined his head at her in a bow and smiled at her.

“You’re right on time!” She smiled back at him, then stood from her chair and gestured for him to follow after her, “A patrol from the South returned earlier, and one of the members has been injured heavily. It’d take our healers a long time to close such a wound properly, and I figured since we have you, you might be able to do it faster. He’s also lost quite a lot of blood, but thankfully not enough to endanger his life. Yet, that is.” They reached a room at the end of the corridor and Yuina pushed the door open and moved to the side, then gestured for him to get inside, “He’s in your hands now. Come find me when you’re finished.”

He nodded at her and walked into the room, the door closing behind his back more audibly than it was needed. He stopped near the bed, studying the man lying on it and his bandaged abdomen. The blood had seeped through the white cloth, obviously very recently, as these were not field bandages and someone had redone them not too long ago, but clearly without successfully closing the wound.

“Keep your filthy hands away from me!” The man rasped, snapping Tobirama’s attention up to his snarling mouth. He stopped himself from frowning, instead keeping his face blank, and answered,

“I’m here to heal you. You can keep your protests for when you’re no longer bleeding out to death.”

“I’d rather bleed out than have a butcher like you touch me!” The Uchiha’s lips pulled further back, revealing even more of his teeth, and Tobirama forced himself to remain impassive,

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll do my job regardless of what you might rather.”

The Uchiha pulled out a kunai from the wrappings at his tight and pointed it at Tobirama,

“Come any closer and I’ll end you!”

Tobirama sighed, trying to keep his irritation in check, and took the final few steps to the man, not even flinching away as the blade pierced the muscle right beneath his left shoulder. It stung, but the wound wasn’t very deep, given that the man was clearly weakened by the blood loss. Ignoring the kunai, he set to his task, carefully removing the stained bandages. Thankfully the man didn’t try to stop him again, as that would have meant he would have to restrain him, and he really couldn’t be doing that now, as the impression it would leave was not the one he was trying to go for. He let his chakra flow over the wound, inspecting it to see whether there was something that could lead to infections, and upon finding nothing and purifying it just in case, he started to meticulously stitch the ripped flesh closed, using his chakra to bind it together. As he first pulled at a tiny piece of flesh, the Uchiha hissed in pain,

“What a wicked wraith you are!” He snarled at him again, but at least didn’t move away and let him continue with the treatment.

As he finished closing the wound, he took a step back and pulled the kunai out of his arm, placing it on the bedside table, right in the range of the Uchiha’s reach as if daring him to stab him again, then promptly healed himself in silence. He could tell the Uchiha was gaping at him, at how unbothered he was by being wounded like that, and, keeping his voice as detached as healers usually did, said,

“You need to drink a lot of liquids and eat a large meal to help the wound heal entirely and to recover from all the lost blood. Be careful not to overexert yourself for a few more days.”

“I know all that!” The Uchiha hissed at him, but did not insult him in any way, so Tobirama decided to take that as a good sign. He nodded at the man and left the room, having finished his task.

On the way to Yuina’s office, he thought about how, before he had learned to heal and before Hashirama had figured out how to extend his chakra over to others, his injuries would take forever to recover from. Because of that, he’d studied the properties of different herbs and had made salves with them. They had helped with accelerating the process, even if not nearly as much as a chakra-enhanced technique could. But they were still useful. And it was only him who knew how to make these salves, as no one had bothered to ask him, only request a jar of them to use. He’d always given them, of course, it was his way of helping people at the time. But the Uchiha weren’t aware of these salves. Did they perhaps have something similar, or anything that could help at all?

He reached Yuina’s office and knocked, then opened the door after her permission and entered,

“The patrol squad member has been tended to. However, I was wondering, if you can’t immediately treat the injury, or a person doesn’t know how to heal it, especially concerning smaller injuries, do you have some salve that could help speed the natural healing process up?”

“A salve?” Yuina’s tone let both her confusion and curiosity show, and Tobirama nodded,

“Yes. An ointment made from herbs. I gather you don’t have such?”

“No, not that I think so. But if you could teach me how to make them, I would be thankful to you.”

The genuineness of her words moved him, and he didn’t even think about his response,

“Of course I’ll teach you. Just show me what sorts of herbs you have available.”

“Follow me to the gardens outside.” With a grin, Yuina walked off and Tobirama followed her to a back entrance of the building into a glass-domed garden he hadn’t seen before.

What an ingenious idea, this dome. It would keep the plants safe from any kind of weather and it would hold the temperatures regular all-year long, supplying the Uchiha with herbs even out of season. He was tempted to go study it in more depth, but then he remembered the reason why he’d been brought here and quickly moved to follow Yuina, who was already a few metres away from him.

The rest of the day they spent with him explaining the different herbs’ properties and how to combine them in order to not neutralize them with each other, and then the two of them mixing a small variety of salves.

Yuina sealed the umpteenth small jar of the substances and smiled up at him,

“Thank you for teaching me all this. We knew some of the ways these herbs could be used, but not to the extend that you did. And these ointments, they will certainly help people in the future.”

“I hope they could be of use. And don’t thank me, it’s something you need to know, as a healer. And a way for me to thank you for letting me work with you.” He was slightly embarrassed to admit to the last part, but it had to be said. He was truly thankful to her, because she had given him the means to prove his usefulness. And that was something he needed to do.

“With your skills, we’re lucky to have you.” Her smile widened fractionally, then she looked up at the sky through the glass, “Ah, it’s already this late? I think it’s best for you to go. Madara-sama tends to worry too much sometimes, and we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” Her smile had been replaced by a teasing smirk as she looked back down at him, and he felt himself flush,

“It’s not like he has a reason to worry, but you’re right, I should probably go. Have a pleasant evening, Yuina-san.”

“You as well, Tobirama-san. Until tomorrow.”

He nodded at her with a small smile, then made his way home across the compound. Thankfully, the streets were nearly deserted, the low temperatures of early February in the evening not at all a pleasant companion for a walk.

The moment he entered the house, a delicious smell hit his nose and he was unpleasantly reminded that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He hurried over to the kitchen to find Madara taking a tray out of the oven, the smell coming out tenfold. Instead of a greeting, Tobirama said,

“This smells heavenly.”

Madara almost dropped the tray on the countertop, but somehow managed to balance it, then turned to look at Tobirama, visibly startled,

“Please, don’t do that.”

“Ah, apologies, I thought you were aware I had come back.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, suddenly uncomfortable under the other’s gaze. “I’ll just make the table, then.” Avoiding looking at the other, he set to the task, all the while trying to figure out where that discomfort had come from. It wasn’t like Madara was going to attack him in his stunned state, right? At least he hoped not. He had begun to believe in Madara’s promise that he wouldn’t harm him and being proved wrong over something so stupid would be disappointing. They could cohabitate peacefully; they’d been doing it for a week now and they were still both alive and unharmed. It was surprising, surely, but Tobirama was immensely relieved it had turned out this way and nothing like what he had feared before the wedding. He just had to be a bit more careful still, it would seem.

He finished his task and sat down to wait for Madara, who joined him a moment later, carrying two dishes, each with a baked fish with a side of vegetables. It looked and smelled incredible, and Tobirama almost burned his tongue with how little he waited before he started at it. The taste proved to be just as good as he had been led to believe it would be by his other senses, and he smiled around another bite.

“I gather you like the fish?” Madara spoke then, and Tobirama turned to him, finding that soft smile he’d begun thinking of as a very welcome alternative to that forced neutrality which had irritated him so much. He smiled back,

“Yes. Quite a lot, actually. It’s even better when I haven’t eaten lunch.”

The smile was instantly replaced with a frown,

“Did they take advantage of your abilities and keep you constantly preoccupied?”

“What?” Tobirama’s eyebrows pulled together in a confused frown of his own. “No, nothing like that. Yuina-san and I just got distracted by me teaching her how to make healing ointments from different herbs, that’s all.”

Madara still didn’t look convinced but hummed nevertheless and returned to his meal. Tobirama studied him for a moment, noticing how strained some of his movements were. He was reminded of the thing that constantly troubled his husband and thought that this strain could perhaps be a result of whatever that thing was. How could he make inquiring about it not seem too obvious?

“If you were tired, you should have left dinner to me. I don’t mind taking care of it at all.” That should be good enough, no direct mention of any troubles.

“I’m not so tired that I can’t cook a simple dinner. Don’t concern yourself with it.” The tone was soft, but that forever-damned neutral expression was back and Tobirama wanted to snap at him for doing it again. The moment he noticed the faint flush covering the other’s face however, the irritation was instantly gone. Had he misspoken in his veiled inquiry and angered the Uchiha? Should he apologise and take his words back? It seemed too late for that now. But Madara hadn’t denied that he was tired, and that was enough to get Tobirama’s curiosity to overtake. Almost without thinking, Tobirama opened his mouth again,

“Why are you so tired? Is there something wrong?”

Madara’s whole body froze and Tobirama cursed himself for letting that damn curiosity get the better of him. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should apologise and tell the other that he didn’t have to answer any of that, and he took a breath to do just that, but Madara surprised him by speaking first,

“It’s just that father has been letting me take on more of his duties as clan head recently. And I’ve been at almost every single meeting lately. It’s harder than I thought it’d be, and I’m glad I’m allowed to ease into it gradually. I don’t know whether I could have managed if it had happened all at once.”

“I think you could have.” Tobirama astounded himself by how much he truly meant what he said. It seemed that he’d surprised Madara as well, because the older one took in a sharp breath, then let it out more audibly than usually,

“You do?”

“Yes.” He was quick to assure, because he did. Madara was intelligent, loyal to his clan and a fiercely powerful fighter. He had what it took to be a clan head, and Tobirama believed he would do well once he was officially appointed.

Madara smiled at him then, that soft smile, and then spoke in a quieter voice,

“I’m also worried about you.”

“Me? Why? You shouldn’t be.” There was bewilderment, and embarrassment, and a very quiet irritation, and something else that he couldn’t identify. It had to be something to do with his whole odd behaviour during the day. There was no other explanation.

“I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. But you don’t have to. You’ve been forced into this situation and it must be terrible. I want to try and help, but you understandably don’t trust me enough for that yet, and I worry.”

Swallowing down to give himself a moment to turn Madara’s words over in his head and figure out an answer, Tobirama was so overwhelmed by different emotions that he gave up on trying to separate and identify them all. In the end, he settled for,

“It’s not so terrible. It’s actually much better than I had imagined. Don’t worry so much. There is no need.” And it was the truth. Compared to what he had thought he’d be subjected to, it was all so much better. And Madara had helped with that, even if he didn’t realise it.

Madara studied him for a few moments, then nodded, apparently satisfied by what he had received as an answer, and went back to his meal with a smile.

Tobirama felt his own mouth pull upwards as he took another bite of the tasty fish. It had truly been an odd day, but the evening had turned out even more peculiar. 


End file.
